Hidden
by eQuasarus
Summary: [AU] Harry, once scared and abused, now lives in the Forbidden Forest where he has adapted to life. The wizards want him back, but Harry wants to be a wolf of the forest. [WiP] 'Addictive' - HermioneGreen [Reader]
1. A Glint of Steel

**Disclaimer:** As with every other writer on I am a mere cheap rip-off from the real thing. (Not that I'm trying to put anyone down.) I am using characters and places created by JK Rowling. No money has passed hands (I can only wish) and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary: **Alternative Universe. Harry, once scared and abused, now lives in the Forbidden Forest where he has adapted to life. The wizards want him back, but Harry wants to be a wolf of the forest. Grow up Harry as he learns to live and gains a family far beyond what he has ever had before.

**Note:**Please excuse the problems with the first several chapters not being beta'd. I had several chapter rewritten, but I lost them in a harddrive failure. I'm working on getting that done again, probably more rewriting of the first couple chapters. I know that some people don't like the first two chapters for some reason, but after you get past them and Harry's in the forest it gets a lot more interesting. Take a chance and read a few chapters, you won't be all that disappointed.

* * *

Hidden

• eQuasarus •

Chapter 01

• A Glint of Steel •

Everything stopped; one second became absolute, as if it were that the moment became hours and stretched out until the end of time.

Harry wondered if he'd done this too. Petunia and Vernon said he'd done so many other things, even if he'd never tired. Was he somehow doing this, now?

He didn't know, and for that very reason he brushed it off as a five year old would, moving on to the fact that it was happening.

Standing above him, with a face contorted in a mixture of fear and rage, stood his Uncle Vernon. It was a face of fear, and a face that Harry was frightened of, something which rarely happened anymore.

The object in his uncles hand was the cause of his true fear. The moment time had stopped the firelight was glinting off of the sharpened blade, darkening the nicks in it and making it look all the more ominous.

Harry'd watched it get sharpened earlier in the day. He'd also seen it used earlier, a huge showing that Vernon had made. Near the fire there were even a few pieces of wood that he's chopped. Aunt Petunia had talked about the show the night before; she had suggested it so Vernon seemed more _manly_. Harry didn't understand what that meant, to be manly. Vernon was a man wasn't he?

Only a few strides away, just next to the campfire, Aunt Petunia stood in an unusual silence. She wasn't even watching Harry or Vernon, her eyes were locked on a huge tree that was laying on the ground next to her. She hadn't uttered a single word since it had fallen a minute or two ago.

Unlike Vernon, who was yelling at the top of his lungs until everything had stopped just a moment ago. The tree that was she was staring at was one of the largest in the forest, so large that even standing she couldn't see the other side where Dudley stood.

Dudley, his cousin, was out of sight, but Harry could vividly imagine what he looked like. He'd have dropped his BB-gun, and was standing there, mouth agape staring at the tree very much like Petunia. He'd definitely pissed his pants when the tree fell. Soon he would be bawling and calling for Petunia.

Out further, all around in the darkness, were others. Harry didn't know any of them, they had come because Petunia had decided to make the camping trip a community event. The tree had disrupted several other campsites and everyone was gathering. They all would see it happen to Harry, the moment time continued they would see how much Vernon hated him. Had Petunia not been frightened so, or Vernon not enraged as he was, then maybe it would have been different.

Time jumped a moment ahead, and everything moved just slightly. Harry wondered if this was what it was like before you died, if the few second before it happened, you remembered it all. He wondered if it had ever been worth it, if living was worth living. He could only think of a single moment that he had ever enjoyed living and it had happened the day before. The one thing that stuck in his mind was her silver hair. He'd never seen silver hair before.

He remembered them talking about him coming along on this trip, the one Vernon had been dreading for weeks.

•

He'd just hidden in the closet only a few seconds before they came in. He was lucky they hadn't seen him, running from Dudley meant he went without dinner and that would be his third time this week.

Aunt Petunia looked disturbed and Harry cracked the door just a little to see what was going on. "He has to Vernon, I've already talked with three other sitters and they'll have nothing of it. Maybe we shouldn't have always spoken so down of him, everyone thinks he's far too much trouble to even think about sitting," she said, covering her face. "Arabella was the only sitter that would ever take him, she wasn't afraid of him at all. Why did she have to up-and-go to that convention all of the sudden? And without any warning whatsoever," she moaned.

Her thin eyes slowly checked the room, she was always watching everything, Harry had noticed that a long time ago. She did not however see Harry in the closet, he was careful to not move because she would see it. Her eyes dropped back to Vernon and Harry relaxed. "You know I don't want to take him, but we can't just leave him here."

His uncle, a large man, grunted and looked as if he were having a stomach ache. Then, his eyes lit up. "We could lock him in the closet while we're gone."

The thought of being stuck in the closet for a week didn't seem all that awful, it would only be a week and he could eat the food he'd nicked last week. It was still under the floorboard.

"No Vernon. What if he died!" Petunia looked around again. "He'd stink up the whole place and it'd take weeks to get it out."

The comment didn't bother Harry, he was used to far worse treatment. They hated him, he didn't know why but it was the truth. Ever since he could remember it was always about Dudley and never about him. He was almost five now and he had never had a birthday. He had gotten a total of three present the last Christmas, the first was a stick of gum from Dudley who told him to choke on it, the second was a toothbrush from his aunt and uncle because his was Dudley's old one and didn't have any more bristle to it, the last was the most caring thing they had ever done for him, they gave him a single coin and told him to go buy some candy with it when they were at the store.

"And that's not even what I'm worried about Vernon. Do you think he might do some... you know use…"

Harry placed his ear up to the door of the closet and tried to hear the last word, but couldn't. "He might just go and blow up the house while he's stuck here, you never know with him." He didn't know what he meant by that, he never touched anything he wasn't supposed to. Well, food sometimes, but only when they didn't let him eat for more than a day.

"You think he might?" Vernon asked dumbly.

Petunia nodded. "Well it's decided, we'll just have to take him with us. Dudderkins will be disappointed."

"He's a big boy, we'll just give him something new to play with and everything will be ok. We'll have to get a tarp for the boy to sleep on, do you think a sleeping bag too? Gwen might have another she can let us borrow," Vernon grunted.

Harry was glad to hear that, he didn't want to sleep out in the cold. He frowned suddenly and backed away from the door, scooting as far back into the shadows as possible. He _always _trusted his feelings and right now they were telling him to hide. He climbed into one of the coats at the end of the rack, using the pockets to support his feet. He was small enough that it wouldn't do any damage.

Moment later the door opened and Dudley's massive head peaked in the door. Harry didn't move at all, he wasn't going to allow the movement to catch Dudley's eye. Dudley scanned the floor and was about to step in when Petunia called to him. "What are you doing dear?"

Dudley hadn't seen him so he didn't say he was looking for Harry. They talked to Dudley about the camping trip, who of course made a fit. He wanted to go camping, he was the main reason they were going. He had begged last week, all his friends were going camping so he wanted to go. Harry didn't think Dudley would much like it though.

•

It seemed fitting that he died out here, only a day after he'd had the only happy moment he could ever remember. Harry thought about her, the girl with silver hair. He'd met her the day before and would probably never forget her.

He was playing by himself in the woods, up the creek were none of the adults would come and too far for most of the children to wander to. Dudley had broken his BB Gun, but now instead of shooting one BB, it shot three and they all hurt. So Harry had come here, were he could be alone and not have to deal with the others.

She'd come up, paying him no mind, invading his space in a place where she could have gone anywhere. Harry didn't even bother with her, he'd learned that just ignoring people got rid of half of them. He continued drawing, making shapes that he knew but had never seen, things that made him feel good. She didn't go away.

"What'cha doin'?" She asked after she had stood there silent for a long time.

Harry still ignored her, hoping she wouldn't get angry and stomp through all of his mud. She didn't seem to want to leave, but most of the time when he said things it made it all worse. The only other children he had ever met were Dudley's friends, and they only liked him because he was small and easy to pick on.

Finally, after another considerable length of silence she flopped down on the ground next to him, getting herself dirty and Harry too. They both laughed lightly. "Can I draw too?" she asked.

Her laugh, the simple friendliness, was completely new to Harry. So quietly he picked up one of the sticks he'd collected on the way and tossed it to her. He didn't say anything because he didn't understand her, she was different to him. He started on another drawing, with bigger symbols and she joined in and seemed to understand what he was drawing, helping him make them even more extravagant. He liked it.

"What's your name?" She asked after they had completed a few more sets of drawings.

Now that they had played together for a while Harry didn't feel as suspicious anymore. She seemed to be genuinely nice, something he'd never encountered. He looked at her, studying her as a five year old does. She had pretty silver hair, and real silver, not grey like old people. Her face had mud all over it and she had blue eyes, really dark blue eyes. He'd never seen hair like hers or eyes either. For a moment he stared but he caught himself, he didn't stare at people because that made them mad.

She smiled at him and he figured that he didn't mind telling her. "Harry."

That was all that was asked and they continued playing, laughing and throwing mud at each other when the symbols didn't turn out right. When it got dark the both hurried home, it _was _dark but neither was afraid. She walked away from him at her campsite, which was only three or four away from Harry's. When Harry neared his campsite he remembered that he didn't know her name. He hoped to see her again so he could ask her.

When he walked into the campground his Aunt and Uncle swooped down on him, furious that he was so late. Two or three of the other campers who knew Petunia had noticed that he had been gone all day and they mentioned it to Petunia who of course had to make a fuss about him. So, that night in his tent Harry didn't have a sleeping bag. It wasn't all that bad, but the ground was rocky and he didn't adjust to it well.

The next day he was stuck in his tent by Vernon's orders. Whenever someone said something about him Petunia told them he was sick in the tent. Harry could hear them outside. The tent was hot, thick green material that was not at all transparent. It made Harry so hot he had to take off most of his clothing.

Around mid-day the back of the tent opened up. It didn't have any sort of opening in it so Harry stared at it mystified as someone crawled in backwards.

"Harry?" The voice asked tentatively as the rear of the tent closed up.

The voice was _her_ voice. He smiled as she turned around, her silver hair almost lighting up the darkness of the tent.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to get into trouble for playing with me," she said as she tucked something into her pocket.

As Harry stared at her disbelieving that of her blaming herself, she smiled at him. He didn't understand, it was always his fault, _always._

While she stared she pulled some things from her pocket and offered them to him. One was a small pouch of sweet tasting liquid. Harry'd never tasted anything like it before and he gulped it down. Petunia and Vernon always saved sweet things for Dudley, he only got what Dudley didn't want. She offered him some small colorful objects too, and Harry took them also, eating them one at a time.

Some made him feel fuzzy inside, some made him dizzy. They all tasted wonderful and made him think he might just be dreaming. He had odd dreams sometimes, he saw things that weren't real places that couldn't be. He saw big lizards fly across the skies, and sometimes, sometimes he flew.

He didn't talk about his dreams, Petunia had not liked it when he did before.

"You want to play a game?"

Puzzled Harry looked up from his treats. What sort of game could they play in this tent? Harry didn't know anything that he could play. If petunia caught them playing she'd be furious. How had the girl gotten into the tent without them seeing? How had she got in at all?

Harry glanced over at the back of the tent where an opening had appeared, it wasn't there anymore, just a window flap that was sewed shut.

"Alright…" Harry said, unsure if he really wanted to. If she was caught she'd be in a lot of trouble and he'd probably never see her again, Petunia'd forbid it.

She smiled again. Harry wasn't used to someone smiling at him, at least not like that. "Good. My nanny showed me a mu… game that could be fun. No one would ever play with me, my dad doesn't think I should play child games. Do you have a flaslit?"

"Flashlight?" Harry asked her, getting confused.

She nodded vigorously and Harry dug through the piles of stuff that Petunia had left in the tent. Finally finding a flashlight he handed it to her. She flipped it in her hands, rolling it through her hands, looking at it confused. She pushed against the lens and then against the bottom. Eventually she held it up and said something aloud, something Harry had never heard before. Nothing happened and she handed it back to Harry. "Turn it on."

Puzzled Harry took it away and clicked the switch to turn it on.

When he handed it back to her she looked at Harry then to the light. She flicked the switch and the light went off and then she moved her fingers and it came back on again. After giggling for a second she propped the light up so it shined against the side of the tent. She reached her hands into the beam of light and suddenly the side of the tent looked like a bird. Harry laughed lightly.

A few moments the shadow turned into a dog. "Pretty," Harry told her.

"You try," she said, grabbing his hands and pushed them in front of the light. Harry tried to make an animal with his hands, but it just looked like hands. "No," she shook her head, "make it up in your head and pretend that your hands look like them. Watch," her hands entered the light again and they moved around. The side of the tent showed a person walking. It was strange, Harry couldn't see her hands at all, it didn't look like it was there in the shadows.

"Now you."

Harry put his hands back in the light and looked up at the shadows. "No, don't look at what you're making, imagine it. Nanny said it doesn't work unless you imagine it hard."

For several long minutes Harry closed his eyes and imagined animals, trying to get something to work. Nothing seemed to work, she had said nothing. "I can't… I just don't know…"

"Look," she whispered to him in awe as he opened his eyes.

Across the tent was a herd of horses running through the light and into the shadows.

The horses finished running across the light and his hands appeared again in the shadows.

"Watch this," she said, reaching her hands in and manipulating them. Harry watched as a horse appeared, a very odd horse. It had a horn coming out of the top of its head. Harry stared at it, wondering what it was he was looking at, what she was making pictures of.

He didn't have to ask, she volunteered the information. "It's a unicorn."

"A what?" He asked, staring at it.

"A unicorn, haven't you ever heard of a unicorn? It's like a horse, a white horse, with a horn on its head."

The horse changed, loosing a horn and gaining wings.

"What's that?" Harry asked, feeling uncomfortable, Petunia hated things like this. He'd mentioned strange animals before and she had slapped him and told him never to talk about them.

"A Pegasus. It's like a horse with wings. Father has one."

"There's no such thing. Horses can't have wings, or horns." Harry replied, scared.

"Can too. I got to ride it once," She said happily, but added sadly, "but I almost fell off."

Harry shook his head but didn't say anything else, he wouldn't ever mention them, even if they were real.

Someone neared the tent and Harry looked over, fearful. If he were to get caught with this girl he'd be in a lot of trouble.

"You need to go," he whispered to her. "We'll both get in trouble if you're caught here."

"Tomorrow?" she asked tentatively.

Harry nodded, "if I can. Same place as before, in the forest."

When nightfall came he was allowed out because he had to use the restroom. He was informed however that he would not be able to eat dinner. So Harry wandered off and didn't plan on coming back anytime soon.

Dudley followed him however and Harry found himself pelted with bb's from Dudley's gun. Harry had several strike his face before he could get away, they stung and even cut him. He ran back to the campgrounds and his as best as possible without crying so Dudley couldn't hear him. It didn't work however because Dudley had not run all day and so he wasn't worn out, he had been able to keep up with Harry enough to see where he hid before he ran out of breath.

When Dudley was a few feet away he raised the gun and Harry cringed, waiting for the tiny missiles to strike him.

Somewhere nearby there was a tremendous popping sound, the sort that an old root made in the fire, but ten times louder. Harry looked up and Dudley was looking away, Harry scampered off a few feet but turned to see what Dudley was looking at. A huge tree at the edge of there campground swayed, and then fell between Harry and Dudley.

Then Petunia had screamed and Vernon, welding his ax because he had just finished showing some one how to chop wood, came running.

It ended.

Time became normal again. At first the ax moved a little, coming down towards Harry. Then the wind blew past him. Harry's eyes flirted between Vernon, looking to the trees.

Was she there? Would she see this? Would she care? Would she remember him? None of that mattered really, but Harry did have one question. What was her name? He closed his eyes and waited.

Harry wished he was in the forest again, where it was quiet and peaceful, where people wouldn't bother him. His whole body tingled and he thought it was time for him, he would be dieing soon.

When he opened his eyes he was scared.

It was all different. Vernon with his ominous ax and his anger were gone.

No light. No more crackling of the fire.

No one. No more soft whispering from those who were beyond the range of the fire.

No sound. No more birds fluttering through the trees, no more crickets in the darker areas of the campground. No more frogs with their soft croaking.

Nothing. It was all gone.

The trees were different. Larger, older, they seemed to hang gloomily. The feeling was all different too. Harry shivered.

•


	2. Dog

Chapter 02

• Dog •

Sleep.

It was the very first thing Harry could remember thinking after everything was gone. He hadn't slept most of the day because of the girl and Dudley. Now he was in the woods, far past the sunset and he was tired.

Harry looked around. It may be dead but he had to find something to sleep in.

The mind does strange things when you're lost and alone. Harry soon found himself crawling into a warm blanket of pine boughs in a small depression that had somehow carved itself into nearby roots.

Not caring what it was from, Harry slept.

A terrible dream haunted Harry's thoughts when he awoke.

_The darkness surrounded him, and he disappeared into it. No one cared. No one saw him as he struggled to push it away, it enfolded him, ensnared him, sucked him into a bleak dark gloominess that would not let him go. In a matter of a few minutes he no longer existed in the world, and no one cared._

But waking was no better than sleeping. No matter how much Harry despised his aunt and uncle they were the thing that made him alive. They were the reason he still existed. They _saw _him.

The previous night filled his mind and he sat up straightaway. He looked both directions to find that he was sleeping in dirt. Petunia would be furious. He didn't realize that she would not be furious because she didn't know. So Harry dusted himself off as best as possible and went in search of everyone.

He wasn't afraid at first. He had already spent much time in the dark recesses of the house hiding or being punished. The woods were freedom and he enjoyed freedom.

But not for long.

At first it was just a tingling in his stomach, even the shock of being alone did not push away the thirst he was beginning to have. Between breakfast and noon it went from a mere passing desire to in intense craving. He still had no idea where he was or where he was going, so he just continued walking until the night came again.

His mind changed a little as night came again, but only a little. It was an unconscious reaction to his new environment and Harry had no idea how much this place would change him. His young mind simply conformed to its new environment.

Then, he found a place to sleep for the night.

It was as much a necessity as a luxury. Along the side of his path he noticed a dark rock, something he may have never noticed before, and he moved to it. It was more than just a dark rock. It was the entrance to a small cave. It wasn't big it seemed, but then, Harry didn't need anything big, just enough to keep him out of the open. He knew that the forest wasn't safe at night, but he didn't really think about it he just survived.

When he awoke the next morning there was no nightmare, no dreams at all that he could remember. He just stood, brushing away the pine boughs he had gathered the night before and continued walking.

His thirst was back, and it filled him, made him ache for water as he never had before. He stumbled occasionally, cutting himself and bruising his body.

Finally at one point Harry decided to follow one of the many narrow trails that had been cut into the forest from the consistent use. After hours he at last came to a stream and fell into it, gorging himself on the cool water. He didn't see the startled animal that had scampered off into the bushes only a few feet away.

Laying in the water, staring at the tree's above him Harry suddenly felt better. Enough that it didn't matter if the Dursley's forgot him, he knew he existed and that was what mattered.

Something changed in him right then, it was not the realization he no longer needed the Dursley's. It wasn't some magical power he'd been endowed with. It was something that requires no thought, something primitive that had begun awakening in him.

When Harry stepped away from the pool of water that had formed he was not the same child that had entered it. His eyes caught a gentle movement it would have never caught before. His ears perked up and he could hear an animal nearby, breathing.

Frightened, he looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. Nothing moved at all, it seemed even the wind had died down. Not wanting to find out what was watching him Harry, stumbled back, heading away from the creek.

As his trail led further from the creek he slowed, he didn't want to loose his water source now that he'd found it. His eyes continued to search the road ahead, noticing even the slightest thing that might have passed him before. An outcropping of rocks caught his attention, it seemed very much like the place he'd spent the first night, which had seemed the safest place so far.

Slowing, Harry examined it from afar. It was two rocks that pushed against each other, forming a hollowed out half-dome. It was not somewhere that looked like Harry could sleep though, the ground was covered in an odd sort of ground cover that looked dangerous. Not wanting to rule out the possibility Harry closed in on it, wanting to examine it further.

Some red berries on the path distracted him and he remembered that he hadn't eaten in several days. He didn't know if they were something he could eat, but they looked juicy and plump. His Hunger overwhelmed him and he took a few. He'd over filled himself with water so other than the hunger itself he was full, he only dropped a few of the berries into his mouth to taste them. They were sweet, but not overly so.

Something growled nearby and Harry dropped the other berries he'd picked, not wanting to deal with whatever creature was watching him he headed for the refuge he'd discovered. Hopefully it was empty.

What he found wasn't what he expected.

Being a child and so inexperienced in the forest, he wasn't looking for signs of life, and he might've missed them even if he had. They were old though, and the area seemed to be empty of creatures for the time being. The pursuer of Harry didn't seem to like the area and he never heard it.

The whole area was almost perfectly suited for a camp. It was a protected clearing, with bushes and fallen tree's surrounding it. The tree's that hadn't fallen were so old that their roots had bubbled out of the ground several feet and intertwined with each other on one side, protecting the area from any harsh winds. The area felt appeasing to Harry, but none of the other animals, they actually avoided the area entirely.

At first Harry only inspected the surroundings. A small bubbling brook provided water to the plant life inside the grove. Harry didn't examine the plants right away nor the berries, he was worried that something else might not be happy if he should. He didn't want that.

The grove wasn't big, but to Harry, used to living in a cupboard, it was monstrous and open. After the sun began to set Harry went to gather pine boughs, his stomach starting to bother him. By the time he'd gathered enough to make a bed he was so sick that he could barely move. His stomach was sending sharp pains into the rest of his body, almost completely immobilizing him.

He collapsed into the boughs, not even trying to find a comfortable place to lay, it just hurt. For several hours Harry moaned. He could hear the night in the distance, but he felt relatively safe until something came close. The dark masked the animals presence but he could hear it breathing again and he grew afraid. He couldn't move this time, and he doubted that he could fight it off if it wanted to.

Shutting his eyes and hoping for the best Harry waited. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours. Harry occasionally yelped in pain because it was too great to suppress. He started wishing he was at home again, in a room where he was safe when something whined. He opened eyes to find something right in front of his face. Gasping Harry tried to push it away, but his arms hurt too much. The creature backed up slightly and whined again. Harry started to see the rest of it more clearly. It was a dirty white, but enough to stand out in the night. The wet nose that had been pressed in his face extended further to a small body of a dog. Its forked tail stuck up in the air, and Harry saw it must've been hurt.

"You hurt too?" He whispered to it.

The dog, sensing the boy was friendly stepped forward and licked his face. Harry laughed lightly, having never felt the sensation of the rough tongue along his face. The only one's he'd ever been near where Aunt Marge's and they weren't nice at all, the didn't like Harry either.

Pain still abundant, Harry was glad the dog was nice, and he felt a sense of security as it laid down next to him.

The dog stepped back when Harry closed his eyes, it trotted around the clearing, sniffing the air. It had a new master now, and felt protective of it. It hadn't had a master in some time and knew the dangers of the forest well. When he felt the perimeter was safe enough it trotted back to the boy and laid down next to him, it's ears still listening for any signs of trouble.

Harry awoke from a horrible dream, but found himself warmer than he'd been the previous nights. He remember a dog, though not clearly, but he remembered it had come to him and slept with him the previous night, making him comfortable enough to sleep even with the pain. The dog however was nowhere to be seen. Harry was feeling much better once the poison of the berries had run through his system. He was lucky he'd only eater a few berries, it had saved him from getting deathly ill. Had he continued eating them he would not have likely survived the next day.

A yapp caught him off guard and Harry looked up to see a white dog standing at the edge of the clearing, with something hanging from his mouth. Harry's eyes widened when he realized the dream from the night before had not been a dream, that the dog had indeed come.

It trotted forward and dropped the items it was carrying at Harry's feet. Harry bent down to examine them, they looked like potatoes, and Harry picked one of them up and looked at it. It wasn't like any potato he'd ever seen. The dog, thinking that Harry was allowing him to have the other grabbed it and ripped into it, taking large chunks from it and eating heartily.

Harry stared at it for a minute, wondering how it tasted. It wriggled in his hand and a sharp pain entered into one of his fingers. Oddly enough, the potato seemed to have teeth and tiny eyes. Harry shook his hand hard, finally making it stop when the potato struck a rock near Harry's hand. It fell to the ground and Harry stared at it, not sure what to do. The dog sniffed it and then nudged it towards Harry.

More careful this time Harry picked up the potato and sniffed it. The dog had already finished the one that it had taken a bite of. Carefully Harry bit a small chunk of it, having a rough time ripping through its skin. When he was able to bite into it he found that inside it was very tender, and tasted nothing like a potato, but much more like a hamburger. Harry took another bite, and finished it rather quickly.

It didn't taste so bad, nothing like some of the cooking that he'd had to endure at the Dursley's.

The dog looked up at him expectantly, wanting his master to thank him. Harry smiled and looked down at the dog, wondering what it was called. "You not have home?"

The dog wined. Harry stared at it smiling, at least he wouldn't be completely alone now. For the rest of the day Harry gathered the largest things he could pull and dragged them back into the clearing. He had never made a shelter before but he knew he'd need one.

Dog (so named because Harry could not think of anything to call him) tagged alone, whining quietly when he sensed any animal. It was amazing how easily the two came to rely on each other. Dog wanted to protect, to have someone, while Harry just needed a friend and a way to survive. By night Harry had assembled a tiny shelter that resembled the tent he'd slept in when he was camping.

With Dog beside him the night was much warmer, and he didn't shiver constantly like he had the few nights before. It also helped that the spot he was close to, between the rocks seemed to emanate warmth from the plants.

Another day came, and another and another. Eventually the nights became weeks and the tiny shelter that Harry had assembled started to grow. It fell twice before he discovered a way to keep it standing firmly. The clearing served Harry well, fresh berries grew on one side, left alone by the rest of the animals of the forest. That wasn't his only food, Harry ate everything that looked as if it were at all edible. He learned quickly to eat a small amount first, making sure that it wouldn't make him sick. Then, after he was confident that he wasn't going to be made ill he'd eat a little more.

Never straying far from the clearing, Harry fell into an easy routine. Dog would always go find potatoes if they had little else and he always brought back enough for both of them.

One day, when Harry did venture from the security of his clearing, he strayed too far. Dog was not with him on his expedition and after he'd walked for a few hours he decided to turn back, only to find that he did not know where he was. He laid on the ground, feeling scared afraid for the first time in weeks, he no longer had Dog with him.

When the night fell the cold swept over the boy, cuddling him like a blanket and causing his body to shiver constantly from the unnatural cold.

As the night came so did the creatures of the dark. Many slipped past, some even stopping to smell the new scent. A few even knew of it and continued on, not wanting to be troubled by the creature.

One alone stopped. It wasn't a large creature, nor would it have been a formidable beast for even the young boy to fight, but, it had brother and sisters that would be. The eyes refracted upon the body and it scuttled around the boy, deciding what to make of it. Finally it too turned and disappeared into the forest.

Harry woke with to a clicking sound. His body was cold and he had a hard time getting up at first. It had rained lightly at some point during the night, but between the rain and the dew the whole forest floor was soaked. The clicking that he'd heard came closer and Harry trembled, he didn't like the sound.

A large spider scuttled in front of him and Harry laughed at himself for being afraid of one. It wasn't much larger than his fist, and he didn't think it would hurt him, none of the others he was experienced with ever hurt him. The clicking sounded again and Harry could see that it wasn't from the spider that was in front of him. He got to his feet slowly and the spider that was next to him ran off quickly, not allowing him to reach for it.

Another spider appeared in the distance and Harry faltered. He'd never seen a spider that big, in fact he'd never seen any animal that was as big. He'd heard of elephants, but this could not be an elephant, it was most definitely a spider.

It spotted Harry and Harry could do nothing but stare. It seemed to be the one that was making the clicking sound. It scuttled towards him, all eight of its legs moving so fast that Harry could barely see them. Harry froze in fear, not sure what to do, it was by far faster than him and it looked like it wanted to eat him. There was no way he could defend himself against it. He wasn't even sure that there was a way that he could escape at all.

Finally his mind gained some composure and it knew that if he wanted to have a chance of escaping then he'd need to run now, before the spider got to him. His feet moved under him faster than he ever remembered running, even from Dudley. Somehow the fright of death was causing him to move faster than ever before.

As he rushed through the forest it felt almost as if Harry were having nightmares all over again. This time however, he wouldn't wake up from them, they'd kill him. That was the way that Harry thought it was happening. Nightmares were coming to life, like Dudley but worse.

When the faint path that Harry'd been following changed Harry just continued headed the direction that he'd been headed before. He was moving so fast that there was no way that he'd be able to change direction as sharp as the path had.

When Harry dared to glance back he saw that his pursuers had fallen back as soon as the path had died, they had lost a clear opening and so it was moving around and over things. Occasionally getting into the higher branches, but even there it was too crowded to move around much.

Feeling a little better, but still just as close to death, Harry turned back to face a sharp hill. He did the only thing that his undeveloped mind could think of, continue running down the hill. In some ways it worked, the hill was sharp but he was running fast enough to keep the pace up. However, as the hill bottom grew closer Harry found that even his own pace was not fast enough and between his momentum and the muddy ground he finally tripped.

One foot over another at first, then he went down totally, falling flat on the ground and the bouncing back into the air. His hand caught a tree instinctively, but it did little more than whip him into circles as he fell, spinning in mid air and continually landing in odd ways.

Mud splattered everywhere completely soaking an already wet Harry. Finally, at the bottom of the hill Harry came to a stop in area where a good bit of water had collected. He lay there, quiet, finding that he was now so terrified he could not even groan in pain.

The clicking sound closed in on him again. He couldn't see it because the way he was laying and there was no way he could turn to it. Finally the clicking was overtop him and Harry cringed inside, waiting for the nightmare to finish, hoping he'd wake in a warm bed.

It did not happen. His warm bed was no more than a dream it self. But the clicking sound continued past him and Harry watched silently as the two spiders continued in the path he had been headed. He barely was able to breath at all, his mouth was filled with mud and water but still somehow, air found his lungs and he stayed alive but as still as a statue.

Hours later Harry finally stood, the muck that he'd been laying in having caked to his body and dried in the little sun that filtered through the tree's. One step at a time Harry started towards the direction of the sun. He remembered he'd gone away from it the previous afternoon and so now all he had to do was head for it.

Dog found Harry sitting against a tree, having given up his quest because he felt even more lost before. Dog had faithfully been searching for him since the night before, not ever straying too extremely far from the clearing which had become both their homes. When he found Harry was on a return trip, he caught Harry's faint scent and followed it.

When he approached Harry it was cautious, he could sense fear and death both of which he did not like. Harry welcomed him with open arms, as far open as he could get them, and then slowly followed Dog's lead home.

•


	3. A Centaur

Chapter 03

• A Centaur •

He cried at night still.

To some it would have been a miracle for the boy to have survived a few weeks, but he continued to live on past that. Through the winter altogether, which was more than just a miracle, it was magic indeed.

A lot of the reason was Dog. Many days he would disappear in the morning coming home at varying times, but always bringing food with him. Harry had quickly learned that it was best to let him hunt alone when they needed food, because he was slow and scared the animals.

But while Dog hunted, Harry learned and adapted. He stayed much closer to the clearing during the day, at first never traveling farther than he could see but as time progressed he gained more confidence in himself. Still, he spent a great deal of time in the clearing watching animals as they would make their way to the stream and drink, gathering wood for the shelter, keeping warm as the days cooled.

The shelter was the real reason Harry lived through the winter. It changed through the whole winter, getting bigger and stronger. The forest floor nearby had stayed relatively clear of snow, but branches laid all around and Harry collected them when it was warm enough and added on to his shelter little by little.

There was one other thing that helped him through the winter. One day, not far from the encampment, in a separate rock outcropping he found an old battered robe of some sort. It was far too big on him (when he put it on he disappeared underneath) and it was worn beyond any recognition. It was pockmarked with large holes and rips, indicating that the man he been attacked by something. Harry did not know this though, and he found an extraordinary way to patch the clothing – the skins on the potatoes stuck to everything when they were wet and they worked quite well when placed on the clothing just after being dipped in water. The discovery was a mistake, when Harry's spilled his water on top of a half finished potato it stuck to the floor and he couldn't get it up.

Their main cuisine was still those potatoes. It was the only sort of food that Harry could catch during the winter, and though none resided in the and Harry kept several, using them to patch everything. It wasn't long before there was a layer of them on the floor and the ceiling, inside and out.

At night, somewhere beyond the tree line there were noises. Harry would hold his breath sometimes, hoping that they wouldn't enter his sanctuary. He's whisper things he'd never heard before, things that made no sense, but they made him feel more comforted.

The warmth that emanated from the rocks was on of the things that kept the shelter warm, but it was far from the only thing that kept them warm all winter. But, it was Dog, however, who found the cleverest way for them to stay warm. Down on the edge of a nearby creek grew some tall plants that looked sort of like hot dogs during the summer. Dog enjoyed collecting them for some reason, and he made a pile of them in his corner of the shelter. As it started to get cold Harry found that Dog's bed was extremely warm at night, while his was not. After some experimenting Harry found that the reason was the hot dog plants. Harry made a bag of the little potato skins and collected them, even though they were really fuzzy, and used them to insulate the shelter so that it stayed warm.

Winter passed, slowly but surely, and Harry was more than a little different by the end of the winter. He was changed, he'd discovered himself in a way that few people do. The dreams, the dreadful dreams of being lost in the darkness, disappeared as the snow melted.

The spring came and everything was refreshed and begin growing anew, Harry was no exception. Being as young as he was, by the beginning of the spring Harry'd grown several inches and his muscles had developed for the quick movement he required moving through the forest. He had begun climbing tree's a lot as well.

He'd once been chided by Aunt Petunia that he wasn't allowed to climb tree's (Dudley had been trying but Harry was the only one that was able to do it). But he didn't remember that now, Vernon, Dudley, and Aunt Petunia were a thing of the past. He thought about them briefly sometimes when he heard noises that sounds like voices. Though, he stayed away form those voices he wanted nothing to do with people because he knew what people were like.

It was easier and safer to move through the forest when he moved through the tree's. Very few of the predatory animals that he needed to be worried about frequented the forest ceiling. Occasionally he had come across a nest in the tree's and he would take the eggs. Though before coming to the forest he'd never eaten raw eggs he found them to be make him feel good if he just swallowed them quickly.

Having adapted fairly well, and finding food was much more abundant, Harry began following Dog again, this time through the tree's. He'd hop from branch to branch and watch Dog below him, seeing how he hunted. It was the best way, seeing that it never disturbed any of the animals that Dog was after and it helped Harry learn to hunt. He never went, not during the first year, he only watched from afar.

There was also the morning strolls he took, going further and further into the forest than he had the previous summer. The scare he'd received from the spiders that were as big as elephants had faded, but it kept him wary. His ears were constantly listening for a chattering in addition to the sounds of voices – which he was always listening for.

During the day's he'd sit in a tree eating while Dog prowled the forest and he'd watch. Creatures, wandered about underneath him unafraid of the creature above who was a part of the forest now. He loved watching the fawn's bound around playing with each other and chasing the tiny animals. Everything was so beautiful at times.

Then there were the wolves. Harry'd never seen wolves before, they were like dogs, but different, shaggy with sharp snouts. They would tear apart the deer when one got far enough off by itself. While this was sickening in it's own right, Harry watched sometimes. Usually when they approached he'd throw rocks at the deer and send them bounding off, but there were times he just watched. The pack would drive sneak up on the animal, staying in one area, though it always changed. They would creep on the target and when it ran frightened, they would emerge from everywhere to chase it down. The fastest of the pack that Harry saw was a black wolf and it usually did the killing. He'd get to the right of the deer and then jump, gripping it by the throat while he was dragged along underneath.

When Harry watched the chases from above he felt exhilarated. He would run between the tree's, like they ran along the ground, until he came to the kill and he'd watch them rip apart the deer piece by piece, feeding on it. Sometimes he'd even drop to lower branches to get closer, but only as far as they would let him. When he got within ten yards the black wolf would raise his head and watch, teeth bared. Dog however seemed to be accepted by them, though not when feeding.

There were other types of creatures as well, some like pictures Harry'd seen in books, and some so much different than anything he'd ever heard of. One morning, as Harry took his daily wander through the forest, he rounded a corner and ran smack into the largest horse he'd ever seen.

It was however, not only large, but unlike any horse he'd ever seen in his life. He'd seen horses, and more than just pictures, he'd seen them on the telly. However, as he lay on the ground he looked up at this horse he saw something even more frightening, a man.

Arms, a face, white hair and blue eyes, is was like no horse had ever seen. He looked like a horse with a man sprouting out. The man-horse stared down at him, his sapphire blue eyes widening in surprise, while Harry looked up with even more astonishment. It didn't take longer than a moment for Harry to react though. The forest had changed him into an animal like the rest and he felt endangered.

In no more than a half a moment Harry was on his feet and moving away from the man-horse at the sort of speed that only death can bring. The man-horse didn't take much longer to react though, and just as Harry moved into a dense patch of tree's he could hear the thunder of hooves raging behind him.

There was a yell, a voice, something Harry hadn't heard clearly since he'd left the normal world. And Harry's pace quickened even more if it were possible. The sound of a voice brought back memories, pictures. The cry, whatever had been said, sounded angry and surprised, just like uncle Vernon before he was punished.

Seeing a low branch Harry grabbed it and swung himself up, scaling the tree like a monkey. It wasn't long before he was lost in the above branches. Though the branch was slick Harry braced himself with vines that hung nearby.

The rumble stopped below and Harry peeked out of his hiding spot to see the man had slowed below him, looking around the tree curiously. Watching from above Harry could see the man-horse trampling the ground and circling the tree continuing to look around. Silently Harry tried to slip back into the branches away from the animal below. But one of the branches swayed and cracked loudly.

"I will not harm you child," the man-horse said as his eyes moved to Harry's hiding spot. His voice was soothing, and unlike any voice Vernon had ever used with Harry. He sounded calm and comforting, even a little relieved to see Harry.

Still, Harry had a hard time believing him. In the right hand of the man was a strange object that looked like a weapon Dudley had once used on Harry. A bow and arrow, but this one looked infinitely more dangerous. "I am you friend," the horse-man continued. "My name is Firenze, I am a centaur of this forest. Please come down so that we may speak. The rings of Saturn told me I would meet a stranger in my own home and here you are. I had not expected you so soon though."

For a brief instant Harry thought of coming down, but his eyes came in contact with the crossbow again and he withdrew into the branches further. Firenze seemed to understand Harry's reaction and looked to his bow, laying it on the ground followed closely behind by the back on his back. Then he stepped back several feet watching for Harry to move.

"I've no reason to harm you child," he said calmly, watching Harry with his big deep blue eyes. His young face was not like any man Harry'd ever encountered. He was young, rough, and rugged, but looked kind still. "This forest is really no place for foals to be running about."

As Harry debated moving one hand slipped from the vine and Harry hopped onto a lower branch effortlessly, but never loosing site of the man-horse. Having lived in such a dangerous forest Harry's curiosity had only grown and seeing a man stuck in a horse's body was one of the most curious things he'd ever seen.

Still Harry had cause to stay cautious, he felt trapped and was not about to drop down to the man-horse. The shelter was a good distance away though, and he would not be able to reach it without the man following.

Glaring down at the man Harry determined what to do. Dog wasn't around so he'd do his best to scare the man away. Taking a moment to think Harry growled as best as he could, trying to imitate Dog when he chased away creatures. His throat rasped at the use, he rarely ever used his voice anymore. But instead of coughing he bared his teeth and growled again trying to be more ominous. The man needed to leave, there was no question about that.

Dog appeared almost the instant Harry growled the second time. It was almost as if he were waiting for some sort of sign. His teeth were bared and he charged down the man-horse without fear. Startled, Firenze reared, his front legs kicking at Dog, trying to keep him away.

Without a second thought, Harry jumped from his limb with a half-human scream that echoed through the woods. He refused to let this beast hurt Dog, and he swung as hard as he could, trying to hurt him.

With the boy on his back and Dog at his feet Firenze did the only thing he could think of, retreating and bucking Harry off. Harry held his grip for the first few jumps, striking the man in a tender spot on his ears more than a few times before he was thrown off. When Harry finally bucked hard enough to throw Harry it only took him another minute to get to his feet again.

Near the tree Harry spotted the crossbow that Firenze had lay there and he lunged towards it, gripping it in his hand and pointing it towards the startled man-horse. Firenze stared, his eyes full of wonder, but his front feet pawing the ground restlessly. "What are you boy?" he asked with surprise.

"Go!" Harry barked, barely sounding human. Though speech was not lost to him he had barely learned to speak before the incident and having not spoken in a year was affecting him.

There was at least a full minute where both eyes locked into each other. But Firenze seemed to be willing to accept defeat and he back away, baffled at how the child was acting. He could barely be seven seasons. His hair was black, dirty and gnarled and his skin was blackened with dirt, but his eyes, his eyes were alive, so very alive. Firenze wasn't sure what to do or how to view the boy, but he finally decided to back down and he cantered off in the forest, leaving the exact way he'd come.

The whole time he kept his eyes on his crossbow warily, it was not something he wanted to be struck with. Though he doubted the boy could load another it would only take one well placed arrow. He could make another of course, but the pack would laugh at him for losing it to such a youthful foal. It was doubtful they'd even believe such a story anyway.

When he was at the range of the arrow he slowed and though to follow the boy. But as his sharp eyes watched he could see the dog, a half breed of wolf, turning to sniff the air and watching him warily. The animal was not something to be taken lightly, it had been living in the forest for a long time and was only barely manageable. Some of the centaurs avoided it because it had the temper of its father but because it had run with its mother for such a long time it was partially domesticated.

When they'd gone a good distance from the centaur, Harry changed course rapidly and quickened his pace. He followed a straight path home hoping that Firenze would not be following him. But Dog had other ideas, and took charge heading on a course that Harry had never taken.

When they finally returned to the shelter under Dog's guide Harry's arm was strained from packing the heavy crossbow and the quiver of arrows (most of which had been lost in the flight) and he dropped it unceremoniously beside his door as he entered the shelter. The arrow that had been loaded in it was loosed and darted across the shelter, cleanly piercing the wood and disappearing through the hole it had made.

Harry stared at the hole and then moved to it, placing his eye up to it. Then he dashed outside, finding the hole again and trying to trace it to where it had landed. It wasn't hard, the colorful feathers that were attached to it made it stand out Pretty good. It was buried in a nearby root, and had embedded itself so deep that Harry could not pull it out.

Laughing, Harry ran back in and pulled another of the arrows from the sheath. He placed it the crossbow and pulled the trigger, just like Dudley had. Nothing happened this time. Harry could see something was different, the string was too far forward. So, breathing excitedly, Harry pulled the strung back with all his might but it hardly budged. After several minutes Harry could not get it to move more than a few centimeters.

Finally, when Harry discovered that he could not set it he put it aside, more carefully this time, hoping to someday be able to use it.

The event kept Harry to the tree's more often. He learned how to move through them almost as agilely as he moved on the ground.

•


	4. Hells Howl

Chapter 04

• Hells Howl •

The second summer was very different from the first.

The encounter with Firenze had cautioned Harry, but in a different way. He was not afraid to go out, but he was careful about what was going on around him. His ever alert eyes would scan the ground as he hopped through the trees and he began seeing more than he'd ever seen before.

There were the mice that ran through one of the clearer areas of the forest where a hill and a field had become overrun with potatoes. If he listened close enough he could hear voices coming from the ground sometimes, and he would move away, trying to stay away from people.

Firenze appeared many times, and sometimes with friends. There were a few of the man-horses, Harry concluded, maybe even a dozen. They were easy to hear though, as their hooves made a distinctive sound, and Harry always had time to hide.

Dog began pulling Harry out when he went on hunts, nipping him and nosing him along until Harry got the idea. It was strange, but Dog seemed to understand what it was Harry was doing and in some ways they could understand each other. The sounds that Dog made were slowly taken on by Harry until he was using them in most of his expressions. Dog understood them best of all and being that he was Harry's only companion they became a sort of pack, misunderstood and odd, but a pack.

When the wolves who lived nearby came near Harry they would announce their presence by a yip, and then go about their own business, ignoring Harry altogether if he ignored them. Then there were the bears. As Harry was returning home from watching a successful hunt from above the wolves he heard a crashing, the falling of trees and what seemed like a stamped. Naturally Harry hid himself high in a tree, and watched to see what beast was moving through the forest. A huge thing appeared in the twilight, immediately reminding Harry of a monstrous Vernon, but instead of being peach he was grayish and carried a gigantic stick which was waving back and forth dropping the smaller trees and bushes that lay in its path.

With the little experience Harry had in animals, Harry had thought it might be a bear, even though the pictures in the storybooks he'd seen of them were far different. But then, he'd found that many things did not look like the pictures in the storybooks.

There was a foul odor emanating from the beast, like the rotting carcasses that were sometimes left in the forest untouched by the animals. With each swing he grunted deeply and again it reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon. But it was not, it was not human at all, Harry knew that. It had tiny little eyes, and as it continued past Harry there was an odd sound that emitted from its throat, like a roar. The sound made Harry tremble even in the tree's. But still, his curiosity got the best of him and he decided to follow it instead of running. He was safe in the trees it seemed.

When it got dark Harry found it hard to follow the creature and he found a limb that was large enough and perched himself in it, sleeping. Dog would likely come after him soon, but he wouldn't be able to find Harry right away – he hadn't been on the ground for more than half the day. When Harry realized this in the morning he dropped to the ground and then, pulling back, let out a long howl. Dog would hear it and come, hopefully close enough to find his scent. Harry still wanted to follow the creature.

"Will, mate, thought you'd said that there weren't no wolves in this area," a voice said from nearby and Harry jumped, slipping around a tree away from the voices. "That sure sounded like a wolf to me, you don't think that it's a werewolf, do you?" the voice continued.

As quietly as possible Harry climbed into the tree he stood behind.

There was a shuffle and a much quieter voice. "Shut up you mangy manticore, we aren't about to find a troll with you yapping so loud. T'ain't no werewolf either, they only come out on full moons and there aren't many that roam the forest. Probably a wild dog, there aren't any wolves in Scotland, 'aven't been for years."

Creeping around the tree when he was high enough Harry spotted two people standing in a clearing, looking both ways. "Where do you suppose he went Will? It don' look like he did much damage round here."

"Dung I told you to keep your trap shut," the second man said growled and looked around. Harry pulled back a little. The man seemed to think that there might be danger nearby and was trying to discover where it was.

Somewhere far off Harry heard Dog howl a response and Harry smiled. Dog had been looking for him. "Sure sounds like a wolf," the man called Dung said, gripping the stick in his hand tighter. Harry would have laughed had he remembered how to; such a small stick was no match for a pack of wolves if that's what they were after. And the beast that had come through the night before was holding a much larger one.

"Yeah," muttered Will and he moved along the same path that the bear had gone the night before. "There's the trail again," Will said pointing to where the bear had laid his stick down on the ground and dragged it behind him. "Let's get moving before the animals get over here. Watch for the one nearby, it sounded like it wasn't more than a few yards away."

Understanding the two were after the bear, Harry followed, even more curious. They carried nothing on them that he could see that would protect them. They were odd men, the oddest he'd ever seen. Their clothing was different from the sort of clothing that people wore, but was vaguely like the cloak he'd found in the forest. He was still wearing it, sort of, the arms and bottom half had been ripped off because it caught on things as he ran through the trees, but he kept himself partially covered by what was left.

The bear was huge and had a weapon – while they had nothing, Harry wanted to see how they would kill him. People were strange; he knew that, they didn't act the same in the woods. It took him a little while, but he took a side route parallel to the path the bear would be taking and he caught up to the beast again, after a good distance of running.

The bear had fallen asleep on the ground and was still asleep, his stick lying on the ground beside him, and his huge chest heaving up and down like a mountain. The smell was unbearable and Harry curled his nose in disgust, but he had an idea to get both things he wanted, the men to leave and to be able to see the fight which would take place. He doubted that the men would win, and that was all the better, he didn't like people in the forest near him.

Dropping to the ground Harry found a rock and tossed it at the beast, striking him in the head. With a snort the tiny eyes opened and looked around. Harry hopped into a nearby tree with another rock in hand and threw it at him again, plainly staying in sight. The bear bellowed as the rock struck its nose and he looked up to Harry, standing immediately. His hand went for the stick, swinging it towards Harry in the tree but missing because it was not nearly long enough.

Harry growled at it and then dashed through the trees towards the men, trying to get the bear to follow. The sound of the trees behind him crashing was enough for Harry as he continued on a quick sprint through the trees trying to find where the men had gone. The huge bear, though it didn't look it, actually moved quite fast and kept up with Harry's pace continue to bellow angry guttural noises.

"'e's coming! That devil wolf is chasing him to us!" Harry could hear Dung shouting frantically as the bear neared the men. Their eyes were on the ground but Harry still moved higher into the branches away from them, howling one last time when he was sure they couldn't see him, as to get the bear to continue in his direction even though he couldn't see Harry.

When the bear finally met the men he was running full speed, and he barely caught site of them before he was on top of them. It was over the instant later. Both men held their sticks in the air and said something odd, something Harry'd never heard before and the huge bear tripped over himself, falling on the ground and sliding forward until he was at their feet.

Dung was cowering while the other man stared at the beast menacingly. Harry was very afraid, they'd never even thrown anything and the huge bear was already at their feet. "You don't suppose," said Dung, looking around, "that maybe that 't'ain't a wolf? I've heard stories from muggles. You know muggles, they always make up stories based on what they ain't never 'eard of. Sure'd explain why the thing seems to be flying round us."

Far off in the distance Harry could hear Dog howling a response to his howl. Below the two men looked around slightly disturbed, of course Dung was more afraid. "Let's say you and I get this beast out of here before they decide they don't like us," he said his stick held highly.

They waved their sticks again and the bear rose into the air, flying along behind them without anyone touching it. Harry gasped, he'd never heard of flying bears before. Maybe the men were doing it, but he couldn't see how, neither of them were touching the bear.

Swift and silent, Harry followed behind, keeping a good distance. Every once in a while he would slow and howl so that Dog would know where he was going. He had never been so far from his shelter before and would need Dog to get back this time.

One time, as afternoon was closing and night was creeping over the forest there was more than one response to Harry's howl. Dog had howled his response and Harry could tell he was closing in on the men, but then there was a second howl and a third and fourth, somewhere further off. Because it was almost night the pack was becoming active and it seemed that Harry's call was also calling to them.

It was fun to see the men stop and look around. They were terribly frightened and when they started off again it was at a quicker pace than before.

Every time Harry howled, the two men seemed to get more and more finicky. What made it even more fun was that the wolves were closing the distance fast - their howls were getting closer by the minute. Dung seemed to be constantly muttering under his breath as he looked into the trees.

Will was the one Harry was afraid of though, he'd almost caught Harry the first few times he turned to look into the trees. Harry had just howled the last time he did it and froze in mid movement as the eyes roved through the trees. At first he'd thought the man had seen him, because he didn't turn forward for a long time.

When Will finally did turn forward again, he didn't pause for a moment. The howling of the wolves in the distance was enough to do more than spook him. He started off at a dead run, the body of the bear moving behind him just as quick.

Dung was stunned for a minute, he looked back, then forward, and then back again as if insuring that it was Will and the bear that had just run past him. He finally turned back and forth a last time, sprinting after them at full speed. "Will!" he shouted frantically. "Will!" But no manner of shouting was going to slow Will. It only sped his progress, he ran almost as fast as Harry had when he'd been running for his life.

Harry grinned and gave chase in the tree's starting to howl ever spare moment he had. Dog and the wolves were catching up, but not as fast as they had been. The tree's started to sparse and Harry had a harder time trying to keep up as he ran through them, finally dropping to the ground and running hunched over but keeping further back. He could hear them crashing through the brush but the sound stopped and Harry slowed. There was something else, something familiar sounding. Making a quick course change, Harry headed around them, not wanting them to surprise him.

They hadn't stopped running though; they'd made it through the trees and to an open area. Harry came to the edge of the forest and stared beyond. He could see lights, and people, houses and stores. Then, suddenly, as quick as he'd seen it he turned and dashed away, heading back the way he'd come. He didn't like people; he didn't want to be there. The bear was gone now along with the men that had followed it. Harry'd had some fun and that was enough for him.

He howled after he'd gotten a good distance from village, trying to find where Dog was. Dog returned his howl, and within a minute or two was waiting for him ahead. The wolves howled, but they were still off in the distance, it seemed they didn't want to approach the town and Harry didn't blame them. When Harry started off the way he'd come Dog seemed to understand and followed him, steering him towards home.

They slept the night in a root cavity that had been formed over hundreds of years. Harry didn't sleep well at all, and continued to awaken in fright, seeing people meandering around in his dreams. He would awake and hear the call of the wolves – which calmed him considerably. But finally, he dreamed of the girl, her silver hair hanging loosely as she returned to his place near the creek and sat with him. They drew things and laughed until the morning came when Harry awoke with Dog licking his face.

•


	5. Part of the Pack

Chapter 05

• The Pack •

Harry was moving silently through the forest so fast that one might describe him as flying. Though, it was night and most people would not have even been able to see him. His eyes however, never having unnatural light, had grown accustomed to the darkness and he could see without too much difficulty in almost the blackest of nights.

Sight was not the only of his senses that had began developing beyond normal. His ears had become accustomed to the faint sounds of the forest and now they heard a battle. He slowed his trek and turned towards the battle instead, always interested in them. This time there was even more interest, he could hear the snarling of the wolves when they found and the clicking of the spiders.

Wasting no time he started towards the fight, moving even faster through the trees, no longer keeping up the silence he had before maintained. It took several minutes before he came across it, and he saw what he'd heard. While he'd only once before joined in a battle he'd been watching, this time there was no choice in his mind. He immediately saw that the wolves were in trouble and he bared his teeth, not once faltering.

Jumping onto the back of the smallest spider Harry began clawing with his hands and ripping with his teeth, he wasn't going to let them hurt his friends. The spider jumped into the air, startled at the attack from above. It was all Harry could to hold on. Any other boy would have been flung from the back of the spider instantly, but Harry was not. Even being as young as he was, his muscles had refined into steel and his finger dug into the thick hide of the spider, holding him tightly.

When the spider cam back down again it took a few steps forward and jumped again. This time Harry slammed into a low hanging branch and lost his grip, tumbling to the ground. The spider had struck at an odd angle and had hurt himself too, so when he landed he was barely able to stand right. It took Harry a moment to shake off the blow, but he was on his feet before the spider was and he was attacking it with a rock he'd pulled off the ground.

Amazingly enough the rock was almost like a stone knife from a time long forgotten, and as he gripped it in his hand he felt stronger. His leg muscles bunched up under him and then he sprung atop the spider again, he knew from watching them that they were most exposed on the top and bottom. The bottom, however, put him in much more danger.

So, from atop he pooled the strength of his muscles and struck the spider over and over again, penetrating its thick skin. It didn't harm the spider much, but it kept the creature bouncing around, distracted, while the other spider was left to the mercy of the wolves. While two of them had been no match for the eight wolves, one was not enough. It didn't take long for one of them to rip apart the pincers and then a few of the legs.

Harry found his hand covered in a blue liquid, which he could only think of as blood. The spider bucked him and he slid forward until he was almost at level with its eyes. It occurred to Harry that poking him in the eye would hurt. He buried the rock as far as he could and to his horror he heard the most wretched of screams. It chilled him to the very bones. The spider lurched again and Harry jumped to a low hanging branch as it bucked around, a scream still piercing the cold night air. Even though he'd made it to the safety of the trees he found he couldn't keep his balance.

Struggling to keep his balance Harry didn't hear the battle continuing on beneath him, he was struggling to stay on the branch. The spider hadn't been the largest one he'd encountered but it was almost 20 feet tall and the branch was nearly that. If he fell he wouldn't do so without a broken bone of some sort.

It was to no avail his feet, even with their almost inhuman balance, couldn't hold him and he fell. There was a clicking and a shout and then he heard nothing more as his head struck the ground forcefully.

•

Someone was humming softly in the darkness, Harry could hear it clearly but couldn't decide where it was coming from. Water touched his lips and he choked it down as best as possible before rolling to one side.

He awoke again to humming, and something was forcing bits of food into his mouth. It wasn't tasty and Harry spit at it, but it continued coming until he relinquished the fight and swallowed. Trying with all his might he couldn't seem to open his eyes, but there was a calmness in the humming and he found himself drifting off to sleep again.

•

When he finally awakened fully it was in the darkest of dark. His eyes adjusted immediately, but he couldn't quite grasp his surroundings the same as if he would have been under the night sky. His mind played tricks with him, telling him he was in the dark room under the stairs, still living with the Dursley's.

The memory made him scream. To any other man it would not have sounded like the scream of a human, more like a very hoarse whine of a dog. Combined with the eeriness of the surroundings they might have though that a creature was dieing.

Harry moved again, his mind panicking. He found a corner and willed for the dream to go away, trying to push away memories of his aunt and uncle. It scared him, thinking about the outside world. He'd been in the forest for a full year and had forgotten much of the place beyond. Only the most deep-set memories stayed, and all but one frightened him horribly.

It was that single memory that kept him sane. That memory surfaced again as he found the wall of his prison and he imagined the girl next to him. Her silver hair glistened in an unknown light, a soft smile on her face. It calmed him significantly to see her, and once he began to calm down his mind resumed its normal functions, looking to discover the truth of his shelter.

At first, his hands roved the wall behind him only to find that it was rough and crude, not the sort of wall that would be in a house. It was rock, a cave wall perhaps. It accounted for the lack of light around him and the reason that Harry could barely make out the shape of the room. Slowly, and quietly Harry climbed to his feet, finding solid footing even on the uneven floor.

A blanket dropped from his body and his senses came alive again with the touch. A slight breeze tickled at his skin. Harry ignored it for a moment, dropping back down to his knee's and feeling the blanket, wondering where it had originated from. Though it was vague, he remembered blankets he had tried to fashion his own more than once. This one was different from his though, it was extremely soft and felt good on his skin, like the fur of Dog. Instinctively he folded it as best as possible and threw it over his shoulder, he would keep such a wonderful thing, while he didn't like life before the new life he missed a few things desperately and one of them was the soft cloth. The rag he wore now was little more than a rag folded over him, it had once been a cloak Harry had found in the forest, but it had been ripped and torn continually. Harry had only managed to keep it together with the potato skins that he had patched to it and even they were ripping now.

Once more he stood, and slowly he moved along the wall making not even the faintest noise. His feet found there footing one by one and he was quiet, trying to insure that whatever beast had brought him hear would not hear him escape. There was no light to guide him, but the smell of fresh air drifting in was enough to Harry's acute sense of smell and he followed it. Some of the rocks were rough or sharp, and it wasn't a solid floor either, the cave floor was just a mass of fallen rocks. Harry had to be careful as he wound his way through them, his leathery feet could still be cut, and this would cause him to slow outside of the cave, which in the forest could mean a quick death.

It took a great deal of time, but he came to the entrance of the cave and the stars sparkled in his eyes as if saying hello to a lost friend. The cold autumn air whipped around him, pulling the grisly locks of hair away from Harry's eyes and whispering greetings in his ear. Though it was cold Harry had adjusted somewhat and did not find it too cold to go out into the night, he had friends there.

Before he left the cave a wisp of air caught his nose and he stared at the man-horse he'd once met in the past, the one named Firenze. He gasped inwardly, but made no sound, he hadn't felt the centaur laying there and he was surprised, his senses usually alerted him before now. Unfortunately the entrance to the save was not large and the man-horse was laying across the majority of the path, but Harry could see a way around. It took a great deal of work to do it silently, but Harry slipped past the Centaur without even a sound.

Touching a nearby tree Harry felt the familiar bark of it, as if it to greeted him and he pulled lightly on a branch, easily slipping up into its arms. He climbed to the top of the tree, examining his surroundings. Nothing was immediately recognizable to him, though some of the whispers in the night were familiar. A stench of more man-horses drifted to him and Harry looked away from them, he did not want to go that path. Without thinking Harry raised his head into the wind and howled a long, deep note. Then, he waited.

For several long minutes there was no response, and Harry began to feel as if he'd been stripped away from his home, taken ever farther than he had originally thought. Then it came, not a single howl, but the call of an enthralled pack, happy to hear his cry. Harry turned towards it and raced into the wood following the whispers of the wind that had carried the packs call.

Behind him another moved. The centaur, Firenze, had awakened to the howl. Though he had not seen the boy exit he knew that the boy had gone. After grabbing a bundle he took up chase, following the faint sounds of the boy as he moved through the trees.

Harry ran without fear, the voice of night speaking to him as he did. His mind had one single focus though, the little clearing he called home. He flew through the trees untroubled and unthinking, as carefree as a child.

On the ground below Firenze was barely able to keep up the pace. He was downwind, which he knew to be a good thing. The first meeting with the boy had been an accident and uncontrolled, but since then things had been much different. Several nights before he'd seen the boy again, and watched as he had single-handedly fought the Acromantula, nearly bringing it to the ground. He knew then why he'd lost his wit to the boy the first time. In some ways it was as the other centaurs had agreed, it wasn't really a boy, but rather an animal shaped like a boy. It interested him greatly, even though the elders had forbidden him to go after the thing .

He had taken the appearance of the boy to the council, any strange occurrences were to be reported. He hadn't told them of the lost crossbow, or the true nature of their meeting. Still the council had seemed at odds about the boy. They were superstitious, and it hadn't helped that someone had reported the same night that two wizards had been chased from the forest by someone they thought might be a wolf demon. It was crescent moon, and could not be a werewolf and there was the fact that it had come out during the day, which made it slightly suspicious.

No one had an idea of what it was, but as it wasn't bothering the rest of the forest creatures it was deemed that it was best to have left it alone. The herd did not like change.

Firenze held true to what the herd wanted, though many times he didn't agree in his own mind with what the group had decided on. Firenze had nodded his acceptance to the council and, while he'd not gone directly against them, had decidedly taken longer and longer walks into the forest during his nighttime stargazing.

The boy had been given a title as an animal of the forest before the council ended. He lived like them, there were no signs of a human living there. Something nagged at Firenze though as he followed Harry along the forest floor. He'd seen the sparkle in the boys eye, the intelligence. While in some ways he was an animal, apparent by the way he moved through the trees, like a wolf on the ground. But, at the same time he was more than _just_ an animal.

The first sign was the recognition of the crossbow. When the boy had wielded it he had been almost entirely human, he _knew_ how to use the weapon. But then, he'd spoken and it wasn't really a word, though it was clear enough it was obvious that the boy understood something of language, though it seemed that he communicated much better with the wolf-dog.

Then, the tale of the boy and the wolves had interested him, he thought perhaps the boy had been adopted by the wolves in some strange way and the idea was strengthened when he'd first seen the fighting. His ideas changed when the fight began to end. Was not the boy on one while the other was ripped apart by the wolves? If he had been adopted by the wolves where was his companion, the one he'd fought with the first time Firenze had met him?

When the first spider was down and the wolves turned on the second it was apparent that they did not feel any love for the boy, the ignored him while the fought the dieing spider. They'd even turned on him after the second spider was dead. But Firenze had scared them off after harming another of them. They knew better than to play with the Centaurs of the forest. He'd carried the boy to a cave near the encampment, and tended to his wounds there. There would forever be a horrible scar running down his ear, but he hadn't lost it due to some miracle. The boy had even improved his health at an increasingly steady rate until even the herbs that the centaur was giving him wouldn't keep him asleep so he could heal.

Firenze had quit helping him and gone against the rules of the herd, if they'd known they would have stopped him. To help the forest animals was not their burden, it was against the laws that they held dear. But still, he couldn't let the boy die, nor could he let the boy get away without knowing where he'd come from. Maybe, if he could gain the boys trust, he could find out where he came from.

Harry meanwhile was oblivious to the centaur following and he stopped again, raising his head and howling into the night. An answer came and he was off again, chasing the sound of the voice. He was full of energy and the cave of the centaur was behind, he didn't want to be there. But, the blanket was slowing him just slightly. He had to be more careful as he hurried along the trees, he didn't want the blanket to catch and rip.

It confused Firenze that Harry was calling to the wolves, they had attacked him, hadn't they? As he followed Harry he went over the fight again, and pictured exactly what happened. When the wolves had finished off the second spider Harry had been injured and they'd all crowded around him, growling, but was it because they'd just been in a fight, or because they were after Harry? They hadn't actually bitten at him and when the leader of the wolves had tried to Firenze had scattered them.

Had the leader meant to do something else? Was he possible examining Harry to see how bad he was injured? Had the pack adopted him? Firenze was even more interested as he scanned for Harry. The noise that he'd previously been following had disappeared into the night and he stopped as quietly as possible, which was quite a feat, centaurs never relied on their skills of craft.

Not far ahead of him Harry had heard something and stopped dead, waiting to see what it was. The noise ceased though and when nothing came for several minutes he continued onward, wary that someone might be following him.

Sounds drifted to his ears, but none that was uncommon from the sounds of the night. He could not smell anyone and so he simply continued, howling ever once in a while to get a bearing.

Firenze was much further back, and was only able to follow Harry by the howling through the night.

Eventually the howling stopped and Firenze moved cautiously until he reached a clearing. The wolf-dog whom he'd seen Harry with before had met with him and they were wrestling with each other happily. The dark leader of the wolves was on the hill, waiting silently.

After several minutes of play Harry dropped to his hands and knee's and crawled up to the dark wolf, never showing any signs of fear, until he was right below him and nuzzling the wolf just below the head. It seemed that it was a signal of some sort because the wolf dropped all pretenses and was soon on the ground wrestling with the boy. The whole pack appeared from the bushes, and they too joined in the match. Firenze watched astonished that they seemed so friendly with the boy. The play time ended and Firenze followed at a distance only to find something even more bewildering.

When Harry had found Dog and the rest of the pack together he was overjoyed. The wolves had even shown him they were happy to see him, Ink, the black leader of the wolves, had stood above Harry and waited. It was a signal that Harry knew and he'd come quietly to show his respect. After that the rest of the pack had joined in the reckless fun, welcoming him back.

They'd even yipped that there was food beyond and Harry followed them quickly, his stomach aching to get real food into it. The pack had downed a doe before Harry had first called to them and they were guarding it or they would have come to him. While they had already taken their share there was still more left and Harry ripped it apart with ease, eating greedily.

When he was done he wiped his face and then after yipping a thanks to Ink, took off towards his own residence, Dog at his heals. It didn't take Harry long to get there, the wolves had moved their camp even closer to his, and when he did get there he sat inside his home and let the food digest.

After the long run, and eating his fill of the deer Harry found that he was more tired than he had originally thought. With Dog at his side and a blanket covering the both of them Harry fell into a deep sleep.

Outside the clearing stood Firenze, gazing at the tiny shelter in the middle. He was more than surprised, and no matter how much he wanted to enter he found that it was almost as if the place pushed him away. It was clear to him why, he could feel the magical energy emanating from the place. But he'd never known of a muti glade to actually exist. It was a wonder that the boy had found it, or entered for that matter, and it could only mean one thing. The wild boy was a wizard, only magical humans could enter the glades, and only a few of those even.

After a trip around the glade Firenze pulled a knife and its sheath from his side, throwing it into the clearing. The boy was without much, it was the least he could do to help him. Maybe he would be able to gain the savage boys trust.

•


	6. Friends

Chapter 06

• Friends •

Harry awoke the next morning to a weird sensation. It was as if Dog were lying on top of him, but without the weight. He became aware of the events that had transpired before his long sleep and remembered the blanket. He smiled inwardly, remembering how the spiders had lost to he and the wolves. He was smart and cunning, though he had been injured, he'd have to make sure he wasn't injured next time.

Dog was just outside. Harry could hear him sniffing about unusually close to the shelter.

Rising, Harry went to investigate, feeling the light of the sun as it peaked over the landscape beyond the forest. A bird was perched at the edge of the clearing, staring down at something beyond. Harry did not mind it though, lots of animals crept beyond his shelter in the morning and evening, there was a trail that led past it.

He moved to see what Dog was investigating instead. Dog, who had only awoken a few minutes before, moved back to let Harry further examine it. Harry just circled the thing for a while, he recognized its shape, he hadn't turned so primitive that a knife and its sheath would be foreign to him.

The hilt was a sheen bright silver color. The sheath and belt was made of the whitest leather Harry had ever seen, it was so white that when Harry had first looked at it he had shielded his eyes.

Slowly and cautiously Harry leaned forward and picked up the item, the knife first. It gave him jolt the moment his fingers came in contact with the hilt, but it disappeared before Harry had even drawn back his hand. He stared at it for a long time, thinking strange things about it before finally reaching out to touch it again. There was no pain this time, just the smooth feeling of the hilt slipping into his hands.

Slowly Harry pulled the knife from the sheath, examining it thoroughly. The very first thing he noticed was that the hilt and the blade were made of the same material, it was almost as if someone had carved it from a silver bone. Next he ran his finger very gently along the blade itself and found that it was razor sharp, slicing his finger just enough to make it bleed. Harry gripped it, twisting and plunging it into the air, he liked the knife, though not because it was a weapon, he had another weapon still, the crossbow, but this weapon was much prettier.

The crossbow still sat just inside the door of his home. He had tried to load it many times, but still found it was too difficult even with his solid muscles. The arrows were good for other things though, the tips of them were almost as sharp as the knife and he used them to cut open the potatoes so he didn't have to tear at them as much.

Without thinking Harry reached out again, snapping the sheath and belt from the ground, and then hurrying inside his house. He spent a few minutes examining the sheath, finding that it was made from a single piece of leather. The inside was even softer than the blanket, so soft that Harry believed that he'd never felt anything like it. He spent a few minutes figuring it out, and finally got it strapped to his waste were it held what was left of his outer garments together.

Once he'd made sure that the belt would hold, he sheathed the knife and then took it out again, seeing how fast he could pull it out. He noticed that the knife was almost weightless, but it still easily sheered a piece of his door when Harry struck down with it.

He was not careful enough though and he struck his arm, putting a nasty gash in it. Harry nursed it as best as possible and left his home. Almost immediately there was a slight noise outside the clearing and something sailed through the trees, landing at Harry's feet. A thin strip of hide was lying there and Harry looked up, surprised. He hadn't sensed someone outside his clearing, but apparently someone was hidden out there.

He pulled the knife again, ready to fight the new enemy, but no one came.

Slowly he bent down and picked up the wound up piece of hide, trying to decide what to do with it. Why had someone thrown it to him? The thought of using it as a sort of wrapping cloth never occurred to him. At the Dursleys he'd never been given proper medical care and so he hadn't learned what a band-aid was truly meant for, though Dudley seemed to get them all the time.

Ignoring the cloth, Harry looked to the trees of his clearing; the mysterious stranger was just beyond them. Harry sheathed the knife on more time and climbed a nearby tree, moving along its branches until he was outside the clearing. A man-horse was standing, waiting for him. Even Harry hadn't been expecting this and didn't have enough time to get away from the roaming eyes of the centaur.

It was Firenze that was sitting there, and he wasn't sure how the man-horse had found his home, but he was angry that the man-horse thing had found his house. The centaur spoke first, he didn't seem at all angry or untrustworthy, he seemed happy and caring. "Hello young one," he said heartily. "I see you've gotten my present."

From deep within Harry came a growl, the man-horse wanted the knife back and he liked the knife, he didn't want to give it back. Besides, he'd found it and it was in front of his house, why should he have to give it up? The knife was in Harry's hand, and though it was a bit awkward, he was able to look menacingly enough that Firenze stepped backwards.

"Do not worry, I bear you no ill will." Harry growled, but didn't approach any more. The past experiences with the centaur filled his mind; the last time they'd met was only yesterday, though at the time the centaur was not awake. It was curious, that the centaur was guarding the cave where he slept, and yet it contained no bars or walls to prevent him from leaving. And he'd been healed; he remembered before that when he was attacking the spider he'd been badly injured. Slowly Harry's hand rose to his ear, the one that had been nearly been sliced off, it was still there, all of it. Had the centaur healed him?

Before, the first time he'd met the centaur, there had been no fighting, they'd simply both been surprised by each other. The man-horse had even lain his weapon down to show he had no ill intentions. Dog had surprised him again though, but he hadn't even tried to hurt Harry. The hoofs could have done a great deal of damage had they come down on him.

Finally, deciding that the centaur was not his enemy, he pulled the knife from its sheath and began throwing it forward when Firenze shook his head. "Keep it," the centaur said calmly. "It was a gift, a gift to show I only want friendship."

Some of what he said didn't sound right to Harry, he could make sense of the words, but he did understand friend. He quirked his head slightly, not understand the man-horse at all.

Why would he want to be friends? Harry had nothing that he would want, and wasn't that what friends were for? All of Dudley's friends wanted his protection. No one had ever wanted to be friends with Harry because he had nothing to offer them, and Dudley would beat them up.

Dudley wasn't around though, and maybe this man-horse wanted something from Harry. Or maybe he just liked having friends, the girl with silver hair had been nice enough - and she'd never met Harry. Maybe there were other people in the world like her; maybe this centaur was like her. Whatever the reason, Harry reconsidered the first thoughts he'd had about the centaur for several minutes. Finally he concluded that he could try to be friends, but he would be careful, there might be some trickery involved. He spent another few minutes trying to remember how to say the proper words.

"We is friends," he choked and, though it barely sounded human, it was recognizable. He didn't plan on being friends just yet, but he would accept the gesture for now and be careful about the centaur. There wasn't really anything else that could be done about it. The man-horse knew where he lived, he was bigger and stronger, and there were more of him, Harry had seen them from a distance.

Because the threat of having more people find him out, Harry thought for a long moment, trying to place the words. "Not tell others?" he asked, trying to seem as nice as possible.

"No," Firenze said kindly, smiling because he seemed to be getting through to the boy. "I won't tell any of the others."

Harry smiled as an instinct; he was already liking the centaur more. The smile reminded him of the girl.

"Why don't you come down here child," he said quietly, taking a few steps back like a peace offering. Then, remembering what else he had brought with him, he opened the pack that was slung over his back and pulled over what looked like a leather coiled rope, laying it on the ground in front of him. Then he pulled out a small wrapped package. He carefully unwrapped it and laid it on the paper it had been wrapped in, on top of the rope. More food came, bits of chocolates and sweets, and finally, across the top he laid three arrows from his quiver.

He took three more steps back. "Those are for you, young sir. If you'll permit me I can show you how to use the weapons, including the one you took from me before."

It wasn't much, but Harry didn't feel like trusting him that much at the moment. He shook his head quickly, staring hungrily at the food, he hadn't ever had a real cake, and the one on the ground looked terribly inviting.

"Alright, how about I return tomorrow, would that be alright?"

The longer the centaur was there the longer it would be before Harry could get to the food, so reluctantly he nodded. Maybe the centaur would bring more food.

Sweeping quickly to one side Firenze made his way along the beaten path near him, and then disappeared among the trees. He stopped for a moment to see if he could see the boy, but a set of eyes was following him, and when he realized that the wolf dog had suddenly appeared and was following him, he continued on his way.

Harry had whined softly to Dog the moment the centaur had turned to leave and Dog, following Harry's will, had taken off after the man-horse. Meanwhile Harry had dropped to the ground and was collecting the food. The rope was a great treat as well, but he left it while he took the food into his house. He returned just as quickly, a large piece of one of the cakes stuffed into his mouth. He picked it up, and found that it was not a normal rope, instead one side was thick and hard, a sort of handle, while the other was thin and flexible, coming to a single thin strand of leather.

Never having seen anything quite like it Harry took the handle and waved it in the air around his head like a helicopter. It moved fluidly until it caught a nearby branch and wrapped itself around it. Harry had to tug it free, and then he coiled it again, happy for the present, whatever it was.

The next morning, Harry was eagerly awaiting the visit of the centaur. He'd had a small meal already, but compared to the sweets of the previous day the potatoes were almost unbearable.

When the centaur cantered into view a good deal of time after the sun had risen, Harry watched him eagerly, waiting to see what he'd brought. Firenze stopped just below the tree Harry was perched in and waited, looking around. Harry, not seeing any gifts lain down, dropped from the trees just in front of the centaur startling him a great deal.

"Fir... Firennss." Harry said, trying to say the centaur's name, it was hard to pronounce, and he rolled the letters, making it sound more like a dull hiss.

Firenze smiled after he had caught his breath. Harry seemed to glow with anticipation. The clothing was different, he had removed the dirty leathery robe that he'd been clothed in before and now wore very little more than the belt of unicorn hide. In some ways it made him more human, and in some it made him even more animalistic.

From within his backpack came more food, he laid it down in front of Harry and then took a step back. This time he did not leave immediately, but watched as the boy collected the food and then disappeared into the trees like he was a part of them.

For weeks it happened like this, Firenze bringing food and small presents to Harry. He even spoke to him little by little so that Harry could get used to words again. It seemed that words had been the reason Harry had been so scared the first time the two had met. Firenze did get a few words from him, like his name and his favorite foods.

Harry began looking forward to seeing Firenze and was far more comfortable with his presence.

While Firenze was far from the wisest of the centaurs, he was young, smart and willing to spend the time with the boy. It was subtle at first, just the words, but by the beginning of winter Harry was eating with him in front of a fire - something the boy had never known. They conversed, although it was almost completely one-sided, Harry would motion and nod a great deal, but it was a conversation.

None of the other centaurs knew he had made friends with the little foal, who he'd begun calling Harry because when he'd asked Harry's name he'd gotten a reply that sounded like a choked 'harrrea'. Harry was the closest name the centaur recognized and since it was close, the centaur had christened him with that name. Harry had just sort of accepted it not caring either way; his name didn't matter much anymore until Firenze had come along.

"You never knew your parents?" Firenze asked one night as he was giving slicing the fur from a rabbit that he'd caught only a short time before. It was custom to share it with the pack if it was large, but it had only been a set of rabbits, and it wouldn't have made much of a meal so he'd stayed out on the pretense that he would be star-gazing and gone to share a meal with Harry instead. He did stargaze now and then, but since he'd met Harry it seemed to take up a lot less of his time.

There was the problem of another one of the pack coming along, but he was so far off from the rest of the pack, that it was barely of note in his mind. If they moved again, which they did rarely, he might have to worry. Eventually he wanted to gain entrance to the muti glade, just to have been there once, but Harry would have to invite him in - and to do that he'd have to be able to speak.

After carefully laying out the fur of the rabbits, Firenze used an arrow, which had lost its balance, to skew one of the rabbits and set it over the fire so that it could cook. He offered the second to Harry who took it and bit into it without a thought. Though the centaur knew most animals liked their food uncooked he still shivered at the way Harry ripped his apart.

Harry on the other hand loved it uncooked, it was a good deal more flavorful to him and when the centaur had first brought cooked meat; he'd only eaten it reluctantly - but he would never allow the centaur to cook it in front of him if he was going to eat it. Some foods, with sugars he liked cooked, but not meat.

It was almost two minutes since Firenze had asked the question when Harry shook his head as he ripped another chunk from the rabbit and chewed it slowly. He shivered slightly, a sign Firenze had picked up as a sign of pleasure, and then looked at Firenze with his startling green eyes. "D-d-d... die." he said, rather slowly, but still as keen as ever. His aunt had once told him he wasn't supposed to speak, he'd never learned it quite as fast as everyone else because of her, and he'd forgotten it even faster. Some words, like death, dead, died, all seemed the same word to him even though he knew there where others he should be using.

Firenze was a bit startled at the word; he'd always had a hard time coaxing any words out of Harry until now.

"They died?" he asked, amazed as Harry shook his head. "Here?" he continued, suspecting that Harry had been alone because his parents - who were almost certainly magical, had died in the forest. But Harry shook his head and then bit into the rabbit again, forgetting the centaur's presence. Firenze was quite used to this behavior though and just sat quietly thinking to himself about Harry.

There were many reasons Harry could have ended up along in the forest, but none were as absurd as the real reason.

Harry reached the ribs of the animal and started to break the bones when Firenze cleared his throat. Stopping, Harry pulled the knife from his belt and used it to clean off the meat instead of doing it by hand. Firenze nodded, happy that Harry had at least learned something.

"Have you tried the whip yet?" he asked as he took his piece of meat from the fire, testing it to see how well it was cooked.

Shaking his head Harry bound off into the darkness, returning with the whip in his hand only a few seconds later. In his other was the crossbow he'd stolen from Firenze on their first meeting. On his face, a smile, he liked it when Firenze demonstrated the weapons. The crossbow was not his favorite, but at the moment was the only one of the two he had any competency at. When Firenze had come a few weeks before, he'd finally brought it out to offer it as a gift - like Firenze had offered him gifts - but the centaur would not take it, instead showing him exactly how it worked.

Setting the crossbow was not an easy task, but after Firenze had shown it to him he'd gotten the basics of it and been able to do it a few times before Firenze left. Since then he'd done it over and over again until his already strong arms were even stronger and he was with relative ease, able to cock the weapon. The arrows he had were fast depleted, some splintering after hitting a rock, some lost in the forest because they'd gone further than he even thought, and some just quit shooting straight after being used so many times.

Firenze smiled and took the weapons from Harry. The crossbow was uncocked just as he'd told Harry to do, and the whip was coiled properly.

Harry had tried the whip too, but even with the centaur showing him things, he had only gotten worse. At first he'd been able to swing it, but never hit anything he'd meant to, once Firenze had shown him how to whip it he'd used it a few times - but only been able to hit himself. He still had a scar forming on his leg where the whip had wrapped its long leather thread around Harry's leg. That had been the last time Harry tried it.

"Go find a piece of wood," Firenze said as he lay the whip carefully upon a nearby rock. He cocked the crossbow and put one of his arrows into it.

"Good," he said as Harry picked up a small fallen branch from the forest floor. "Now throw it like I taught you," he continued as he shouldered the weapon.

The branch flew towards a nearby tree and there was a slight pinging noise. Only a brief moment later the piece of wood was hanging from a nearby tree, the arrow embedded almost perfectly in the center of a large knot on it

Harry smiled so brightly that Firenze almost blushed. He knew he was one of the better hunters at his age even if the pack didn't recognize it. Firenze didn't have to wait for long before another piece of wood was flying through the air and yet another arrow had made a dull thudding sound as it struck the dead tree. Over and over again Harry threw pieces of wood and Firenze was able to strike them in midair and embed his arrow into the dead tree. When his quiver was finally depleted he placed the crossbow on the rock and picked up the whip.

The whip was something he had not mastered, and he was far from being as good as some of the others in the pack, but he was still good with nonmoving objects. Almost as if it were a signal Harry moved to the left side of the centaur, waiting eagerly to see the demonstration. Another tree was the focus of these attacks, and the whips coils dropped from his hands. But even before they found the ground, the leather cord was yanked in another direction and shot out, wrapping itself around the branch. With a gentle tug it came flying back to Firenze. He took another step back and aimed a bit to the right at a broken arrow, which had been embedded in the tree pointing up. The whip cracked and a small piece of the top of the arrow went missing. Firenze was not at all surprised, the arrow had been broken already and had been there for a long time, it's shaft no longer as sturdy as it had been when he'd cut it down.

Harry was nothing but smiles as Firenze used the whip a few more times. He stopped rather abruptly and coiled the whip again, making Harry turn to him in disappointment. "I've got something else for you today," Firenze said pulling out another leather thong, this one much different from the whip.

"This," he said, showing Harry the weapon, which didn't look like much more than a long leather string, "is called a sling. I was never good at it at all, but all the children play with them, I thought you might like a try at it."

Harry looked at the string for several seconds before just shrugging, it didn't look that interesting nor did it look anything like a real weapon. Firenze took a minute to search out something on the ground then bent over and picked it up. "It is one of the simplest weapons we use," he said as he stepped closer to Harry and showed him the rock. "You take one of these and put it here," he said as he carefully fit the rock into a small pouch that was along the strand of leather. Then, slipping the loop over a finger and taking the other end between another finger he proceeded to twist it in the air. After a full loop he released the string and the rock shot forward, striking the nearby tree. The limb it had struck exploded and the strange sound echoed through the night air.

Harry with delight, it was an amazing device, and nothing more than a simple piece of leather cut right. Harry might even be able to make from the skin of potatoes.

When Firenze offered Harry the weapon, he took it quickly and then darted off, looking for a smooth rock as Firenze had found. When he found a sizable one, he loaded into the pocket of the sling and after slipping his finger in the loop and catching the other end with his finger he swung it hard. When he released it, the rock shot through the air barely finding the target Harry had been aiming for - the same dead tree. It struck the trunk of the tree this time and the sound reverberated through the forest. Harry smiled widely; he really liked this weapon.

"I must go," Firenze said when he saw Harry's eagerness to play, he knew he wouldn't be much use anymore; he was never even good at the thing. Most of the other centaurs learned themselves anyway, no one instructed them; so Harry could learn it on his own. "Good night little one," he said as he turned and disappeared into the forest.

•


	7. Silver

Chapter 07

• Silver •

The forest floor was a crisp white, testament to the long snow which had fallen many times in the last few weeks. It would be the last snow of the season and it seemed slightly softer than before, reflecting the dieing sun. A single set of tracks led to a relatively clear area in the forest where most of the snow had melted away.

Oddly enough though there were two separate creatures sitting in the clearing rather than one. One looked cozy as he curled on the ground near the fire, watching the flames flicker. His long dark hair laid around him like a mane with a body that was relatively bald otherwise.

The second was shaking his head and watching the first distracted. He pawed the ground slightly disturbed. "I'm telling you they have them. I've seen them with my own eyes on the edge of a human city. There's at least three or four of them and one's almost completely white, the exact opposite of the one you call Ink. There's other animals in there too and I think it's barbaric..." he paused for a moment and then, once he'd come up with a different word spoke again. "... awful that they're caged, but it is a rule that we cannot interfere with such things. The council is forbidding that we do things outside the forest."

The first creature, the one who looked almost human turned and his bright green eyes glinted in the firelight. "Other ... Wolves... ?" he said, his voice choked and unhuman.

The centaur Firenze nodded. "And other animals of the forest. Some are from other lands."

Harry grinned savagely, and while it was a human expression it looked far from human. "We ... save them?" he asked, wanting to have an adventure. During the winter he'd been cooped up for a long time with nothing more to do than practice with the weapons that Firenze had given him. It was too cold to stay outside most of the time and because he'd collected food already he didn't have to worry about hunting most of the time.

For a brief moment Harry's attention turned to the forest but it was back in an instant. "Dog." Harry growled to let Firenze know that Dog was coming. Firenze was always too jumpy around the other wolves and Harry tried to tell him when they were coming. Dog and Ink marched into the clearing followed by a couple of the pack. There was a large leg of a deer being dragged between two of the wolves and they dropped it at the edge of the clearing. Harry jumped lightly to his feet and grabbed the chunk of meat easily hefting it into the air. Once the leg had been placed next to the fire Ink loped up next to Harry rubbing his face against Harry's lightly. It was a standard greeting for him. Harry nuzzled him back and then the rest of the wolves appeared from the darkness, following Ink's lead and coming near Harry before laying down and resting.

After smelling the fresh kill on Ink Harry ignored the rest of the pack and went to work on the meat. A knife appeared from the only piece of clothing Harry wore and he easily separated a large piece of meet for Firenze, handing it to him to cook. Then, after slicing a second piece he gnawed at it hungrily.

Even though he was distracted with the food his thoughts drifted to the other wolves, the one's capture and he vowed to somehow set them free. Dog whined and Harry turned to him, then jerked his head just slightly and growled throatily, dog backed away from the meat without taking any. Harry took his knife out again and with a quick movement pulled another large chunk of flesh from the deer and tossed it to Dog. Dog never took from the kill if it was being brought to Harry, he always waited for permission.

Firenze watched with mild interest, but otherwise ignored the happenings. He understood what was happening because he'd seen it many times before. Harry cut another piece from the bloody limb and then dragged it away from the fire back into the center of the wolves. They ignored it altogether except for the cubs who seemed to find it as some sort of play thing, and Harry was as much a part of it as the limb.

For several minutes Harry rolled on the ground with them, nipping and growling as if he were just a cub like one of them. Then, he took a step back and returned to ripping the bloody piece of meat apart while he watched them play with each other. One of them, a pup as black as Ink, drew back with Harry and sat in his lap content to nibble on bits of food from Harry's hands.

Ink just watched quietly until Firenze drew back and rose majestically into the air, towering above all the others. "I must go now Harry," he said slowly. "Do not wander out again without food I may not be around next time."

Once again Harry grinned, baring his teeth, Firenze had found him being out in the forest a reason to chastise him and bring him close to the fire. Harry had just been energetic when the new snow had finished falling and gone out through the woods, flying amongst the roof of trees.

"Where city?" he asked as Firenze started to move away. "Where animals?" he continued, as his thoughts drifted back to the caged animals Firenze has spoken of. He'd heard of a zoo but the memory was so vague that he didn't even think to try and recall it, he simply knew it was there buried in the back of his mind.

"The muggles city is a few days travel that way," he said, pointing off into the distance. "It is outside of this forest, but a second forest borders it, a forest with no magic. You will not be safe there as you are here, there are other people who often hunt in it. Do not go Harry." Though he did not ask for Harry to stay he hoped the warning was enough.

Once the centaur had gone Ink lifted his head and stared into Harry's sparkling eyes. "We go," Harry said softly to ink and then whimpered softly, making some odd gestures with his face. Ink rose and the rest of the pack followed. Then, full of energy, Harry bound into the chilly darkness disappearing from the light of the dieing fire. The other wolves followed.

Three days later as evening fell Harry was crouched at the base of a tree watching a man stumble through the woods with an odd device in his hands. The other wolves waited further out, hiding behind a grouping of trees that was large enough to protect them from his sight. It was where they'd dragged their last kill. The man had almost come upon them as they brought it down and had Harry not directed them to drag it off they would likely have been seen.

For a moment the man paused and turned to look out on the forest as if he recognized something was following him, but when there was nothing there he returned to his staggered walk down the trail. Ink growled lightly and Harry held his breath hoping that the man wouldn't hear it. He did not.

Once the man was out of sight Harry moved back to the kill and took a portion for himself. Then, into the trees he went to catch up to the man. The snow had not fallen lately and though the ground was cold there were no tracks to follow so he followed the scent of the man. It did not take long before he came upon a sight that had not greeted him in a long time. A few lingering cars were leaving the parking lot just ahead and to the right, and he quivered without thinking. He feared man, it was a natural response to his prior life and he did not want to return. But he caught another scent, one of pack, and his eyes drifted to the left.

Though he could not see everything he could make out large trees and cages on the other side of a tall fence. He could smell all sorts of new smells, but among them was the scent of the pack, of many wolves. Turning to his left he skirted the edge of the forest finding it difficult to stay within the trees, but still able to do so. The forest turned along the edge of the zoo and Harry continued to follow it around until he had come to a great fence that protruded into the forest. Standing in the trees he could see the seven wolves curled up, sleeping. One of their heads lifted and caught him moving through the trees but ignored him until he made a leap over the fence and grabbed onto the largest of the trees.

The leader was obvious, she was almost twice the size of the rest and her eyes shown brilliantly, as if she were as knowledgeable as the rest of the pack combined. It was odd that the leader was female, but she seemed to be the only one who could be the leader. She was also the first to crouch, raising her tail. She snarled softly, warning Harry of coming any closer, but Harry knew the warning and he snarled back, showing he was not frightened. The wolf paused momentarily, as if studying him, but her tail dropped just slightly and Harry lept to the ground, but did not move from there. The rest of the pack stood behind the leader but did not attack, they simply waited.

Harry bowed his head slightly and whimpered and the head wolf took an uncertain step towards him. Then Harry raised his head proud, but showed no signs of anger and he waited while the wolf inspected him from a distance. There was another step forward but Harry staid frozen, waiting until he was released. His muscles ached at the lack of movement but he knew that it would be death if he angered them at this moment.

Someone called out from the other side of the fence in the distance and only Harry's eyes moved, examining the scene. A mother was dragging her daughter away from the fence and Harry could hear the little girls words. "But mummy, there's a little boy in there playing with the wolves. I want to play too."

The mother didn't seem to even hear here and just tugged at her to keep going, saying that the zoo was closing. When his eyes returned to the leader he was met with anger and he dropped his head again reluctantly, still waiting. When the wolf finally approached him they met eye to eye and rubbed their faces against one another. Finally Harry was able to move and he almost collapsed because of the position he'd had to maintain. But he'd been accepted, and it was enough. The other wolves approached to, licking and smelling him so that they would know him. It was a part of the acceptance process and Harry did not even think twice about it, simply waited for it to end.

A sound came from the side of the enclosure and Harry turned to see a great metal door opening from within a rock. Not knowing who was entering Harry scampered behind the closest tree and waited. The other wolves seemed to sense his nervousness and ignored him as a man entered into the area. He held a cage with several rabbits in it and he set it on the ground, letting them out. "Feeding time guys," he said as he picked up the cage and returned it to inside the door. Then he took a seat on a rock and waited. The leader who somehow still watched Harry, stared at the man waiting for something, nothing happened however.

Harry stared at the man from his hiding spot, willing him to go away but nothing happened. He didn't want to have to interact with the caretaker, nor did he wish for the man to die because someone would discover it eventually. For several minutes the man watched but the wolves did nothing and he finally stood. "Fine, fine, I get the idea," he said to the closest one. "You never eat when I'm here watching do you? It's hard to see it from anywhere else though." Then, standing once again, he disappeared through the metal door.

Relieved Harry waited a minute until he was sure the man had disappeared for the time, he couldn't hear beyond the door and so he just hoped the man was gone. The leader approached him again, and whined a question of why Harry had come. Harry did not know how to answer, so instead he moved to the fence and pressed himself against it, whining all the time. He was trying to ask if they wanted the outside though he was already sure of the answer.

After several minutes of conversation, mostly whining and yipping, Harry discovered that he was right, they did want to leave. But they told him that it was impossible, and that they had tried everything they could. They had been caged for a great long time and all of them missed the outside world.

Then for another hour Harry spent time hunting the meager rabbits with them and examining their cage. It was almost dark when he scaled the tree he'd come down on, promising he'd return, and fled through the trees.

Ink was waiting for him somewhat impatiently, but still was there. Harry relayed everything that needed to be said as best as possible and then they moved further into the forest. Ink had told Harry that there were other humans who roamed near the forest and animals that were not pack – animals that reeked of people. Though the rest of the pack stayed away Harry never went to deep into the forest. Instead he ascended into a tree and wedged himself between to branches so if he fell asleep while he thought he would not be in trouble. He didn't sleep in the branches unless he was away from home or the pack, but he had learned to do it after having several close calls with other creatures on the ground.

The next morning, long before the sun dawned on the new day Harry had returned to the fence, and was trying to see if his knife would cut through the thick metal. It did not, not at first, but he continued to work at it until he'd made a small nick. He stopped then, surveying his progress while the pack on the other side watched him intently. He would not be able to use the knife to get through the fence if he wanted them out, so instead he alighted the ground inside the cage again, searching for another exit. He was cautious to avoid the stares of the people that watched on the far side of the cage, but they were not looking for him and it was easy to move without them seeing him.

The thought came to him that he might be able to see them through the iron door, because it had been how the man had escaped the pin, but he was unsure of how safe it was, and was nervous about entering into it even with the wolves following him. People were his one fear and to take the door meant people may be beyond it.

It was the only way he discovered, except for spending many, many days at the cage with his knife where he might be spotted. So, quietly he came to the door and placed his ear against it. As he had suspected there was no sound, but he wasn't sure if that was because it was a door or because nothing was behind it. It did not matter he thought, an d he grabbed the handle, and twisted open the door waiting for someone to show up and stop him.

Instead, the hallway was utterly empty except for a chair that was placed to the side of the hall. With a low pitched growl Harry entered the hallway, the rest of the pack padded softly behind him. They had never been in the halls and they were both interested and cautious, sniffing at things as Harry moved forward at a quick, but silent, pace. It wasn't hard for them to keep up, and they followed Harry's lead explicitly. The leader stayed at his side the entire time though, ignoring everything except what lay ahead. She seemed to be extremely smart and was taking it all in, but staying focused on the task ahead.

There were several doors that led off to different rooms and Harry explored each of them one by one, making sure that none of them led out. One door opened as he approached it and he found himself facing the man who'd been in the cage the day before. With a bark one of the wolves leapt forward and had knocked the man to the floor before he could utter a word. A yip and the wolf had the mans throat tightly locked within his jaws. Harry stared down at the bewildered man and thought hard for a minute. "Exit," he mumbled, and though it was pronounced wrong the man seemed to understand.

He used one of his hands to slowly point down the corridor but didn't say anything at all, fearing for his life.

Harry growled and then sprinted down the corridor, the rest of the wolves following behind. The lone wolf who had the stranger by the throat waited for a long minute and then followed quickly. Harry discovered the door and pushed through it only to find himself entering another passage. He sprinted down this one too and finally came to a glowing red sign that had marked the first door. He slammed himself against the door and heard shouting behind him.

Upon exiting Harry found himself in front of a large group of children not much older than him, a few adults trailing in the background. The wolves followed him out and Harry decided to just rush them, and moved through them like the wind, making a pathway for the rest of the pack. Two adults screamed and a couple of the children started crying while a few more started yelling with glee. Harry ignored them altogether and rushed through the crowd angrily barking. The people seemed to split and a path was made.

As they neared the exit Harry saw people approaching them from a side path holding something he vaguely recognized as a gun. He remembered that they were to shoot people and he sped up even more, the adrenaline in his system making up for the lack of physical prowess. There was a slight pinging noise and something fell to the ground just in front of him, Harry knew they were shooting at him and so he slouched in his run, trying to make himself as invisible as possible.

He came to the gates at a full on run when something sharp hit him and he slowed immediately. There was a bright silver object stuck in his arm and he yanked it out and then ran straight into the gateway that formed the entrance. It was a thick metal gate that was impossible to get though going under or over and Harry had no choice but to try and plow through. Strangely enough it worked, the bars seemed to bend as he slammed into them, finally giving way and making a hole large enough for Harry to stumble through.

On the other side though his body started to numb and he had a hard time keeping at a run. He saw several people moving away from him, afraid, and then he spotted something he thought might be a dream, silver hair. By the time his mind came to believe that it might be the same silver haired girl Harry had collapsed onto the lead wolf with another long thin needle protruding from his back.

•

Harry's eyes lifted heavily and he found it was warm all around him. It took a minute to remember what had happened before he fell asleep but it all came rushing back to him like a hammer. He jerked involuntarily, but quieted immediately when he found himself in the company of the pack.

It was odd, but at the same time the most natural thing, finding himself waking up between several furry bodies. He yawned and stretched, finding his back and legs were rather sore. "I see you're awake," someone said and Harry turned to see Firenze standing at the edge of the cavern. "I told you not to go and get yourself into trouble, but you had to go do it anyway, didn't you?"

The only response the centaur got was a wicked smile from Harry. "All right, will you come out here so I can check on you, the pack wouldn't let me get any closer than this to help clean you up. It seems you were injured pretty bad."

The thought of the girl with silver hair glossed over Harry's mind as he stepped between the pack, a few who lifted their heads to watch him, but otherwise ignored him. The leader of the caged back was closest to the centaur and was not asleep, but instead watching him with mild caution, but curiosity too and Harry touched his head to ease the growl that came from his mouth when Firenze took a step forward. The pack leader who Harry was already calling Silver in his mind, seemed to welcome Harry's hand and rubbed her head against his leg. Dog appeared on the other side of Silver looked content and whining good morning.

"How... get here?" Harry asked Firenze once he'd said hello to Dog and Silver. He strained to remember all the words he wanted to say, but his mind was still raw and he couldn't think right.

"This wolf," Firenze said, pointing to Silver," carried you. I met them at the edge of the forest, and she was carrying you on her back. It's the first time I've seen a wolf do that, and she wouldn't let me approach either, she didn't seem to like me very much. She carried you the whole way back."

Yawning, Harry turned back to Silver and rubbed up against her, a sort of thanks, though nothing was said. His mind turned back to the silver haired girl every time he looked at her coat and he wondered if it was really her, if it was the same person, he wanted to know.

"You're not going back, right?" Firenze asked, as if sensing that Harry wanted to return.

Harry turned to stare at him, but said nothing.

"Fine, I won't be there to help next time though. The herd has seen to it that I go on a pilgrimage to help me become a better member of the herd. They believe that I have been spending too much time away from them because of..." he paused and looked at Harry for a minute. "Never mind, it doesn't really matter, what matters is that I will be gone for a very long time. I have a couple of gifts for you just in case I never return. They're hanging on a tree just outside of your home, I wasn't sure if I'd see you again before I left so I left them there."

After nodding slowly Harry turned and went back to the pack, he didn't really feel like doing anything except rest for the time being. He lay down next to Ink and drifted off again.

The end of winter came and went, without Harry returning to the zoo. Whatever they'd hit him with had caused him to be ill for several days and after that he'd had to get used to living with a pack. Silver was their leader, but she only stayed with Harry, and even more than Dog did. She, unlike ink, was even able to follow him into the grove while the rest of the wolves waited outside. So Harry ended up living with the pack as a whole, bringing only a few of his possessions from his home in the grove so that he could live with the wolves. He didn't mind in the least, especially after Firenze quit coming, because he quit feeling separate from them and was able to feel at home there.

The girl with silver hair plagued his dreams though, and as spring turned to summer Harry decided to return. This time only two followed him, Dog and Silver, the rest stayed with the pack as they were ordered to. Harry didn't mind Dog coming along, and somehow Silver had saved him last time so he didn't mind her either. It seemed Dog had come to like Silver as well, so her coming along troubled no one.

This time Harry was much more cautious, he didn't want to be trapped like he'd almost been the last time, and he wasn't sure about going into the zoo in the first place. But, he wanted to find out if the girl was there and the only way to do it was to go in. Still, he waited at the edge of the forest and watched for two days. Besides avoiding people the watching was pretty monotonous, people went in and people left, and all Harry did was observe them from the trees.

No one with silver hair entered or left though and Harry began to think that the trip was worthless, he had thought a lot about zoos and after searching his memories he discovered that people only visited there, they didn't live there with the animals. At least that's what he'd been told. But there were all sorts of animals that lived there and Harry wondered if he could free other animals as well. His first action was to return to the outer wall of the cage that had held the wolves it was not empty now, instead it held a more exotic species, a black cat that was as large as Dog, the cage had been changed too, now there were more trees and the cat seemed to like them as it slept in them most of the time. Harry's curiosity was piqued, but it snarled at him from the trees when he got to close to the cage and a second one appeared, one that Harry hadn't noticed at all, this one charged him, but could not get too close because of the fence.

Still, it wasn't the only cage, and Harry took to examining all of them that lined the outside of the zoo, finding all manner of animals some as strange as the giant bear he'd run across a few years prior. This time, instead of jumping into the cages without knowing the situation he spent a full week watching and discovering how other people came and went. Some people had keys – he remembered keys – and they used them to keep the doors tightly locked. It didn't take much for Harry to discover where the keys were kept, there was a room where people went in with keys and didn't come back out with them. The only problem was that that door was on the far side of the zoo, and there were lots of open areas between the forest and it. Harry didn't dare try and go there during the day, and when he'd gone at night it had been locked.

Silver was patient and was the only reason that Dog didn't give away their position more than a few times. Dog may be a good hunter, but spending days watching nothing that could even be considered food wasn't something Dog seemed to like to do. Nor did he like the fact that some of the animals in the zoo were his enemy to some degree.

The worst thing was that at night Harry would try and approach some of the outer cages, trying to befriend the animals held within. Some accepted him after a while and he was able to enter the cages without worry or care, while others were not so friendly. Some allowed him entrance, but were guarded the whole time. It didn't matter a lot to Harry, he understood their lack of willingness though he wished they could see him as he was, not as he looked. He hated that fact that he was like all the other humans to them, but he accepted that no matter how much of a wolf he was he couldn't change his outer appearance.

During the day he spent hours chipping away at some of the cages with his knife as long as the animals within did not bother him he was not seen at all. But occasionally a guard or visitor would catch a glimpse of him but he was gone before they looked back.

One night as a guard made his rounds Harry dropped on him from a tree where he'd hidden himself for the whole day. After knocking the man unconscious he relieved him of his keys and made his way to one side of the zoo. Only two other people where at the zoo at the time – one other guard and a man who seemed to work late a lot, and both were on the other side of the complex. Harry moved silently to the cages, headed to the back where a door that exited the zoo lay. He unlocked this first, and left it wide open so that the animals would see it there and escape through it.

Then, one cage at a time he released some of the beasts. There were small dark haired critters that could walk on two legs, unlike most animals and had long tails. Harry wasn't sure what sort of creature they were, he'd never heard of them that he could remember, but they were talkative and smart and seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Since Silver and Dog where outside the complex waiting they didn't seem to have any qualms about Harry and a few of them perched themselves on his shoulders after he'd opened the doors to let them loose. The rest seemed to make their way out of the zoo as a group carrying the little ones with them. Then Harry released some tiny bear like creatures, that cling to stick trees, and there were more of the first types of creatures (though they seemed a bit different in each cage) some little things he thought might be raccoons, they were quick but didn't leave the cage until he'd left the opening area. Other tiny creatures were let lose before Harry made his way to the larger areas. Some of the big cats were pacing restlessly along the front of the cages, as if they knew what he was going to do. The black ones he'd met that inhabited the wolf area were not snarling or baring their teeth, but were watching him and waiting. When Harry let them loose they alighted the path in complete silence and paced behind Harry, waiting for something. He tried to let out some of the other large cats, ones with fur, but they snarled at him when he approached.

Then, to his misfortune, someone approached. The second guard, not hearing his companions reply had come searching for the one Harry'd knocked unconscious. He was met with two snarling leopards and a strange – almost human – animal with two monkeys perched on its shoulders.

The guard had heard of the rumors of the shadow boy who'd been seen many times in the zoo and who'd led the wolves to away – but he'd hardly believe the tails until now. He paused, confused momentarily, which was his downfall. When he reached for the gun at his side the human like creature was already springing at him, snarling.

Harry left the man in on the ground, while the two panthers trailed behind him almost obediently as he left the zoo. Since one person had come Harry didn't want to have to deal with others. He planned on coming back to release more of the animals later, but for now he wanted to go home and tend to the injuries he'd sustained from fighting with the man – even if he'd won easily he'd been caught a few times with a sharp knife the man had been carrying.

Dog and Silver met up with him at the edge of the forest, both seemed excited as the animals past by. Harry wasn't sure how many animals he'd let go, but he'd opened a good deal of cages. More than he thought it seemed as he saw the animals in the trees, moving into the forest. Not wasting any time, Harry started towards home, this forest was not his forest, and he didn't feel comfortable there. The two dark companions that had joined him trailed behind, leaving a place for Dog and Silver at Harry's side.

It was past dawn when something tugged at Harry and he turned back for some unknown reason. The few animals who'd been following him before scattered into the forest except for Dog and Silver who faithfully stayed at Harry's side. Wounded still, Harry somehow found the strength to return to the zoo. Whatever it was that pulled him was there, and he waited for it.

Thoughts drifted into his head and he wasn't sure why he was there, it seemed almost like he'd been pulled back, but he stayed, watching the zoo with interest to see what would happen. Men came and men left, there were cars with flashing lights, and people were starting to crowd the outside. People ran too and from the forest in groups of four or more searching. Sometimes they'd bring back a stray animal, but it didn't seem as though they were having very much success at all. Dog and Silver were hidden where Harry had slept the last few weeks with them, within a bush that had been hollowed out, but it wasn't visible from the outside. No one even took a second look at it when they passed near.

In the crowd a glimpse of silver flashed and Harry at it waiting to see if she was there, hoping in some deep part of his heart that it was her and that she'd remember him. It wasn't her though, an elderly lady with silver hair similar, but toned down, was with a dark haired child. It made Harry tremble to see them talking so lightly together and he began missing Firenze, even though he'd only been gone for a short time. He turned and dropped from the tree and fled into the woods, not wanting to see any more smiling faces. He hated people and that's all he wanted to know.

•


	8. Wolf Demon

Chapter 08

• Wolf-Demon •

Three months had passed like a warm summer breeze and with it had come summer. Harry's turned seven even though he didn't remember birthdays, they were a thing of the past. His life became as complicated as a cloud in the wind, he simply became a part of the forest and existed. Nothing else truly mattered to him. He would hunt with the pack occasionally but most of the time he spent wandering the forest in search of something he wasn't sure he was looking for.

With his knife and sling he was almost unbeatable, but Dog and Silver were always around as well and even the spiders of the forest gave him a wide berth. Except for one unlucky spider who found Harry practicing with a rope one day, one of the new gifts that Firenze had left for him.

Harry knew what the rope was, he'd seen them used in the past and was quickly learning to use his, trapping small animals and using it to swing through clearings were there were no trees. The spider came upon him while he was resting, the rope coiled next to his hand. Because of Harry's relaxed state he hadn't heard the spider until it was almost upon him, it had come in the trees were they rarely attacked from, but he had heard it and darted out of the way of the pincers as the spider dropped upon him.

The left hand held the rope and the right had already drawn the knife he always wore even before he had time to think. The spider turned to him and he crouched, his steal-like muscles ready to spring out of the way again. Instead of attacking the spider stepped back towards the tree he'd come from, and been on the verge of climbing it so he could attack from above. Harry was curious as to why until he saw his predicament, the clearing he was in was thickly surrounded by trees and thorn bushes. Though the spider could jump at him it would roll into the bushes and harm itself. But, from above it could corner Harry and possibly capture him without even trying.

Dog and Silver came without Harry even calling for them. They simply seemed to know he was in trouble and came to the rescue. When they appeared among the trees they both distracted the spider for a moment while Harry's mind went over everything he could do. The rope in his hand and the position of the spider gave him an idea though. He tossed the roll over a nearby branch where it landed near Dog just as Harry'd hoped. He barked an order and Dog immediately took hold of the rope, and darted off with it. Harry'd had him pulling on the traps occasionally when he'd lured the prey in. This time however the rope was in Harry's hand and it vaulted him skyward and burning his hands as he held on with everything he had. He soon found himself above, in a thicket of the trees, body trembling from excitement.

The spider turned back to him as Dog disappeared in the distance. One wolf was not as harmful as two, but the great beast found that its original prey was missing. Its head moved back and forth, searching for the missing kill frantically, but found nothing. Above Harry's whole body tensed and a smile covered his face as he pulled a knife from his waist. Taking a moment to howl, Harry dropped onto the beasts body, plunging the knife into the thick hide even before the rest of his body touched the spider. The knife tore through the flesh, gouging the spider deeply and Harry twisted and hung on as the spider bucked, screaming.

Blue liquid splattered Harry as the spider lept into the air soaking Harry and making the spider slick. Harry held onto the knife as best as possible and, as the spider descended again from the jump Harry ripped out the knife and buried it in the spider again, this time aiming for its head. His foot slipped and Harry began to lose his footing, but his knife held true as the spider continued to buck with wild screams of pain.

Dog reappeared and attacked with Silver from the front, but the spider paid them no mind, their attack wasn't the one killing it. As Harry pulled the knife and began to plunge a third time Harry took a different approach, believing that the attack on the head wasn't strong enough to kill the beast. He buried his knife in the side of the animal, barely getting it to hold in the thick hide. Then, swinging beneath the legs he pulled the knife from the spider and slammed it into its underside just above his head and yanked hard. The cut was enough that it slit the belly of the beast wide open, covering Harry with steaming organs as the spider shrieked one last time then collapsed, almost completely burying Harry under its body.

Two smaller spiders unseen by Harry in the heat of battle turned away from the trees and crept out among the branches, disappointed that the hadn't gotten a meal and amazed at what they'd seen.

Two days later as Harry was hunting he encountered a second spider, but this one turned upon seeing him and took another path. But, not far ahead he heard it scream and he turned down the path it had taken, interested. Two men where standing over the fallen spider grinning widely and Harry's temper flared. He didn't like men in the forest, and these men certainly weren't welcome. He smelled another animal about and in the shadow of the trees he noticed the two black cats who he'd set free from the forest. It was the first time he'd seen them since that time, but they saw him as well and took no notice of them. He'd heard there screams before and he wondered if they'd help him, he knew they were superb hunters because he'd found their kill more than a few times.

Slipping through the trees until he was almost upon one of the men Harry pulled his rope from his belt and slipped a loop on one end, then after ascending higher into the trees he flicked the noose around the man closest to him and jerked him into the trees, howling as he did. The second man turned and Harry recognized him, he'd seen him chasing the bear with a man named Dung.

The first man struggled in the trees but it was in vain, the noose had fallen to his chest and trapped his arms with him. Before he could scream Harry pummeled him hard with the back of his knife, knocking the man unconscious.

Moving to another tree Harry noticed one of the cats slinking down from the trees out of sight of the man named Will. He could hear mumbling below from Will when he discovered the missing companion and Harry smiled. "Will," he said loudly, in a voice only half human. The mans eyes shot to the trees and the echoes of a wolves howl reached Harry's ears. Harry spent a moment trying to remember exactly what he needed to say, but settled on something straightforward. "Leave now Will," he said loudly. "Or they will eat you," he added smiling at the mans lack of courage.

"Who are you?" Will asked, pointing the stick in his hands towards where Harry's voice had come from. Harry had already moved though, and was almost on the opposite side of Will when a flash shot from the stick and blew the tree limbs apart where he had stood. Harry trembled at such awesome power and wondered where it had come from.

Snarling lightly Harry lept upon the man from behind, easily pulling the stick from and darting back into the shadows before Will could turn around. He ended up standing next to the large black cat who was taking in the battle with interest. Fumbling with the stick Harry tried to hold it as the man had, but nothing happened. Then he remembered the words that the men had said when they were chasing the bear, the strange words he didn't understand. He thought they were perhaps somehow related to what had happened.

"Where's Charlie?" Will asked, slightly disheartened because he no longer had his weapon. Harry remembered that the other man had had a stick to and so, instead of answering Harry tucked the stick into his belt and moved into the trees while the black cat watched. After taking the stick from the man named Charlie, who looked altogether more like a child than a man, but was still much older than Harry, he was satisfied he was no longer in danger. Slinging Charlie over his shoulder Harry descended again until he was on the ground. The great cat sniffed the man and Harry waited until he was done and moved around a few trees laying Charlie out on the ground.

"Here," Harry said and then dodged away from Charlie, waiting to see what Will would do. Will ran to the thicket to find Charlie unconscious on the ground and looked around in amazement. "Leave the forest," Harry growled from above. "We do not want you here," he added as best as possible, hoping the man understood his words.

Will struggled to pick up Charlie but was unable to get more than half his body off the ground, he was weak and Harry began to wonder if he should just kill them instead of scaring them off. But, if he killed them more of them would come

"I need my wand back," the man said as he failed a second time to hoist Charlie to his shoulder. He didn't even bother trying to locate Harry in the bushes, to him Harry was like the wind, whispering in different direction every time he said something. Harry would have liked to have helped the man carry Charlie out just to get them out sooner, but he didn't want to reveal himself.

He turned to the great black cat and snarled softly trying to get it to understand, he wanted him to watch the men until Harry had returned. Silver and Dog were still a good ways off and he wanted to get away from the men so that when they came they wouldn't be killed if the two wolves thought the men were dangerous.

The beast snarled back and then stood, appearing from the bushes and heading right towards the man. The frightened man caught the panther move from the corner of his eye and almost fell in fright. Harry watched cautiously, trying to determine what the beast was going to do. The cat took Charlie's head in its jaw and waited, as if he were waiting for some signal, and Harry understood. "Do not move," he snarled to Will, "or Charlie dies." He began to find the words easier as he said them more. And he moved away from the clearing, watching will's frightened eyes with delight. After he had gotten sufficiently far from the clearing he howled once more and found that Silver and Dog were almost upon him.

It was difficult to explain his wish to Silver at first and he could only think of a word to use for it, so said it by accident. "Carry," but somehow Silver seemed to understand what he asked and gave a yapp of acceptance. Harry returned to the clearing to find that nothing had changed in the slightest, Silver trotted into the clearing while Harry snarled weakly, the great cat let Charlie go and slipped back into the shadows without so much as a sound.

"Use," Harry said as Will trembled at the sight of such a large wolf. "Charlie on back," and then, with a bark Silver dropped to her stomach, awaiting the weight of Charlie.

It took a few tries for Will to get Charlie onto Silvers back while Harry watched impatiently. When they finally had Charlie positioned right Silver rose again waiting. "Go," Harry said harshly. "Not come back."

Will, as frightened as he was, seemed to get some sense of what Harry was saying and nodded, taking the lead as Silver followed behind. Harry waited until they'd disappeared and then he scaled a nearby tree and snarled a thanks to the Panther who'd helped him. The great cat yawned and closed its eyes, without doing anything else and Harry sprinted through the trees and watched Will as he moved slowly towards the city that they'd come from before. Harry followed them the whole way, he didn't want others with the sticks the man called a wand to hurt Silver.

As they closed in on the town Harry found that they were taking a slightly different route and he almost called Silver back, afraid where the man was leading her, but he waited, sling in hand, to see where they were going. Instead of coming up on a town there was a single cabin at the edge of the forest. Beyond it, on a hill not far away was a magnificent looking castle that gleamed in the sun. Children ran around playing with each other and talking in groups. It didn't bother Harry in the least that he wasn't part of one of the groups, people had rejected him, no one ever talked to him.

The man named Will called someone from inside and a great beast of a man came out. To Harry he half looked like the bear he'd encountered along with his first encounter with Will, but he was very much a person too. Harry wondered if someone could be a half-bear. He dismissed the thought though for the moment and watched warily as the man came strolling towards Silver and Will.

There was a short conversation, Will explained what had happened and then the man, who Will called Hagrid, easily lifted Charlie from Silver and laid him flat on the ground. The Hagrid man seemed more interested in Silver though and he reached out to touch her gently. Harry, worrying what he might do if he got his hands on her barked an order from the trees and Silver scooted out of reach. Both of the men's eyes traveled to where Harry had been, but he was already moving among the trees and he barked another order.

Silver disappeared into the forest as the men looked for Harry.

Another day passed quickly and another. Harry quickly forgot the fear he'd had of the men. The sticks he'd collected from them were buried away near his home, so that others could not get a hold of them. He'd tried saying the words that he'd heard the men use once, but nothing really happened except for lights flashing.

During a daily hunting session Harry heard the clicking that had become familiar to him and he hid in the trees as a mass of spiders appeared not far from where he'd just been. Silver and Dog were still there, they hadn't had time to escape and they crouched, growling. Silver howled once, but it was morning and most of the pack was probably sleeping still. There was no response.

One of the spiders spoke, it was only the second time Harry had heard it and he stared at it in surprise as the words came. "Our father has invited your master to our home," it said to the wolves. Harry almost dropped down to tell them no when more spiders appeared, forming a tight circle around the wolves. They did not attack however and Harry was curios why. The wolves obviously did not understand them, and it wasn't as if Harry would return with them anyway, they were spiders after all.

Something moved behind him and Harry jerked to the side to find himself face to face with a spider that was almost the same size as him. He hadn't even heard it rustle in the branches, but his reflexes had prevailed and he had a knife in his hand and was ready to plunge it into the hairy body. "Our father would like to meet you," it said. "We are not to harm you or your friends, but we are to follow you until you come to meet him."

Harry, knife in hand waited for an attack to come, he didn't believe the spiders, Nor did he care even if it was the truth, the spiders were his enemies and he did not consort with them. Then another one appeared behind the smaller one in front of Harry, this one was one of the larger ones. Harry heard it coming but could do nothing about it. The beast sort of bowed and then spoke, "We would like to thank you for saving me from the wizards the other day, please come with us."

Faltering just slightly Harry stared at the spider; it had been the same one that he'd chased the wizards from the other day. "I didn't save you," Harry said, trying not to snarl and set off an attack. "I do not like people in the forest."

"Nor do we," said the smaller one, "I think that is why our father wants to see you."

Relenting and seeing the hopelessness of the situation Harry nodded slightly. If they were not going to attack him perhaps they really did want to talk. He could beat one or two and possible more depending on how close the rest of the pack was, but to beat the dozens and dozens that surrounded them was not something he dared try.

Dropping from the tree to Dog and Silver he touched them to comfort them a little and faced the largest spider there, which he was sure was the one in charge. "Where do we go?" he asked

"Follow me," the spider said and set off along the path not looking back, merely expecting Harry to follow. When Harry did follow the rest of the spiders dispersed into the forest leaving him with almost no one besides Dog and Silver. There was an entourage of smaller spiders that almost carpeted the ground. Harry had never seen so many of them. But, he ignored them as best as possible just following the large spider who had demanded it.

The path took them into a dark area of the forest, an area that Harry avoided at all costs, he knew the spiders lived somewhere within. Something told him that it was a bad idea to enter, but he ignored it and followed the spider, Dog and Silver almost glued to his side.

They came to an open area where the trees where as old as the forest as a whole. The roots that protruded from the ground were almost as thick as the trunks of some of the trees that surrounded them. Harry was at the edge of the largest hollow he'd ever seen, the trees had been cleared out in the hollow, and the sun shown brightly unto the clearing showing a carpet of spiders there was small ones and large ones, including some that were larger than anything he'd ever seen before.

The large spider he was following moved into the center of the hollow, "Aragog," it said loudly and waited for a minute. "Aragog he has come!"

From within a domed shape web that seemed to hide the earth beneath it the largest of the whole group emerged. Its grey hairs and the slow movement were the first thing Harry noticed and he realized this must be the oldest of them. This spider was the one that the other spiders had called 'father'.

"Yes?" he asked slowly, his pincers clicking ominously.

"The one you asked for is here, the wolf-boy."

The spider's large, milky white eyes flickered across the hollow, but did not catch Harry in their stare. It took Harry a moment to realize he was close to, if not completely, blind. "I am here," he said, trying to show some sign of respect by allowing the old spider to know where he was.

"He is human then?" the spider asked as what was left of his eyes focused on where Harry had spoken from.

Harry growled before he could stop himself. "I not human," he said, trying to keep from snarling.

"Take no offense, I have heard many things of you and I have been unable to discover what sort of creature you are. You do not smell human, nor do you act like one, but according to some you look like one. Unfortunately time has effected my eyes and I cannot see you in your full form."

"I born... like them," he said spiting out the last word with a snarl. "They try kill me. Wolf now, not human.

"No," Aragog said slowly, thinking of what needed to be said. "I do not think of you as one of them. I did not ask you here to anger you, nor did I ask you hear to feast upon you. You have become one of the forest no matter what you were born to. I commend you for such a feat. But, you have done something else as well you have killed my children and you have saved them. I warned them to leave you when you and your wolves first took one of us, and the one who had come upon you was foolish in his actions. I do not blame you for his death," he paused and choked on something.

Pincers clicked around Harry and Harry finally took the time to look around. The spiders as large or larger than he was numbered in the hundreds and the smaller ones in the thousands. They seemed to be watching him, waiting for something and Harry wondered if he would ever leave the hollow. His hands rested on Dog and Silver who stood next to him, ready to fight through the mass of spiders should things go wrong.

A howl split through the air and Harry turned to see Ink and the pack cresting the hollow behind him. He barked at them and they stopped, but each seemed ready to fight to their deaths to try and save him.

"You have shown that you do not blame us either," Aragog said. He had obviously heard the wolves howls, but he was ignoring them for now. "I know what you did for my son the other night when the humans entered into the forest, hunting us. Because of this I have asked you to come here so that we may form an agreement," he paused again, and Harry wondered if he was just getting too old to think for very long. "We will not attack you or any of your pack if you will not attack us. If any of us comes upon a human we will drive them out, or kill them."

"If children attack pack?" Harry questioned, trying to verbalize that he would not stand around if he was to be attacked. His speech had slightly devolved, becoming more guttural with each word, much more like a growl. The spirit of the pack had overtaken him somehow and somehow he found it hard to form words again.

"Kill them," Aragog said simply. "If _any_ disobey my order you may kill them or tell others of my children so that we can take care of it ourselves."

Harry nodded, and looked to the pack, barking that he was safe and there would be no killing unless they were attacked. Ink understood and backed down from his position but did not leave Harry's sight. Above the sun was setting, but Harry's eyes adjusted quickly to the change of light, the moon hung brightly overhead.

"They obey you," Aragog said as if he were answering a question he had asked without Harry's knowledge. "And what of the other creatures you've let lose in our forest, are they of your pack?"

"No," Harry growled, and stopped. He didn't consider any of the other creatures pack, but some of them still were allies of a sort. "...Cats help me attack humans, friends."

There was a chorus of clicking from overhead and Aragog lifted his head for a moment then turned to Harry. "We shall leave them alone as well then," he said loudly, and the clicking died. "_But, _only if they do not attack us, they have often made a meal of the younger of my children."

For a moment Harry seemed surprised, but he overcame it quickly. The great cats did not belong in the forest, of this he was sure of, they must have come from some place far away. They did not know of the workings of the forest, nor did they have any prey that they might be used to in the forest. Hoping that he could tell them, that he could somehow let them know what was offered to them Harry nodded. "Try and... speak with cats," he said quietly. "Not know if can. Not... understand like wolves," he said slowly, slower than when he spoke to Firenze. The longer he spoke the harder it seemed to become now, but he fought it, he wanted to leave the hollow alive and if the Father spider wished to give him safety than that was a good thing. The spiders were the only enemy he knew of which he feared. The great cats might be, but they seemed to take no interest in him and so Harry did not fear them.

"I ... need leave," Harry added, clutching Silver tightly. He wasn't sure what was happening to him, but he didn't want to be in the hollow as it happened. Silver was backing up, and Harry with her, he felt that if he were to let go he might not be able to stand himself.

"Go then, and head a warning. There is magic in the forest this night, it is powerful and dark. Even we stay away from it at night."

Magic. Harry knew the word, just barely, but he couldn't relate it to anything he understood so he simply clung to Silver until he had exited the hollow. Then he collapsed upon her and she joined the other wolves, moving away from the hive of spiders.

His heart beat quickly as the wolves darted through the woods and it was all that Harry could do to hold on. He felt something drawing him and he tried to tell Silver to go towards whatever was calling him but she seemed to be called to, and they both soon found themselves nearing the town where Harry had been so long ago.

Something told Harry to stop, but a howl caught his heart and he felt energy surge through him again. Men where standing around a giant wolf which floated in mid air. They didn't seem aware of Harry or the pack, but Harry could feel the pull of something and whatever it was, was drawing him towards the helpless wolf.

"Are you the Demon?" one of them asked, laughing. He held one of the wand-sticks in his hand menacingly and was waving it about as if he were going to use it fro something. "The one that attacked our friend a few days ago?"

The wolf growled and Harry could see it was straining, but couldn't seem to move from the position it was in, hanging above the ground. Harry stiffened at the helplessness and he almost broke from the trees to help it, but he waited, watching.

A second man, whose hair was long and brown prodded the wolf with his wand-stick. "Come on, we're only human remember. We're not strong or fast like you and your dirty friends. How long has it been Travis, five years? Five years since you changed over to become one of _them_?"

The wolf bared its teeth and stared at the man, trying to push through whatever was holding it in its place.

"Come on," a third man chided, his shorter black hair was slicked back and he had a sinister look to him. "You can answer us. It's easy, one howl for yes, two for no. I didn't think becoming a wolf made you stupid too."

The wolf's eyes locked onto Harry even at a distance and Harry stared back, wondering why they were hurting the wolf. It didn't look as if any of them were harmed, nor did it seem as though they'd had any friend who were. But they must have been friends of the men from before, friends of Charlie or Wills, they seemed to be blaming this wolf for what had happened.

"You couldn't be the Wolf-Demon now could you? You only change over on full moons, right? Or maybe not, maybe you all just say that so that no one knows the truth. Maybe you really can control yourself and you're just lying to us all. What do you say fellows, shall we beat the truth out of him?" The first man asked pushing his thick blond hair behind his ears.

The other six men laughed and five prodded the wolf with their wand-sticks. One of them seemed reluctant and had a look that made it seem as if he didn't want to be doing such things. Harry heard a growl and realized that it was him, angry that people would do such a thing in the forest, to a wolf no less. He'd dropped to all fours and was feeling his pulse heighten and his blood boil. Silver was next to him, teeth bore, only holding back because Harry was holding back. In truth he wasn't even aware when he bound from the darkness, but the whole pack followed and in an instant the laughing and mockery turned to shouts of horror.

It was as if the shadows had suddenly turned into an angry pack of wolves and the men did not have the sort of courage to face it head on. The new wolf dropped to the ground as all seven of the men turned to run and immediately it knocked one of the men to the ground, ripping his throat from his neck in one motion. He was already on the second man before all of the blood finished splattering to the ground.

Anything that had made Harry remotely human was forgotten with the smell of blood and he rushed two of the men, knocking them both to the ground with the help of Silver, before he was able to think again. As the struggled to stand again, buried under what seemed liked dozens of wolves Harry began to think clearly and he darted forward, retrieving the wand-sticks they'd lost in the fall. He wasn't about to let them harm the pack with their sticks. He barked orders several times until the wolves fell behind him and waited.

•

One of the men, Jedidiah, the strongest of the five and the only one still alive because Harry had ordered it, looked up to see what he could only explain as a Demon. Its long black hair was coated in blood and it had a thick hide that didn't look remotely like human skin, more like a blue bark like crust of skin, rough and chilling to look at. Its eyes cut through the black tangle of long hair in front of its face the most piercing green he'd ever seen and it moved with unearthly speed, he could barely follow it with his eyes. Sometimes it ran hunched over like an animal, but it also stood and when it did it looked remarkably human. There were hands and feet just like a person, but it wore no clothing at all save a bright strip of the whitest leather the man had ever seen, that covered little to nothing of his body.

The eyes, the Demonic green eyes focused on him and the beast moved to him before he could even gasp. "Leave," it said in a rough voice that was barely perceivable above the growling behind it. The rest of the men where no doubt dead, playing with a werewolf was not the sort of thing that kept men alive. Then it clicked. This was the beast the Will had been so afraid of, this was the Demon that haunted the forest. "You come back... you die." It said slowly, its voice still sounding more like a growl than a voice, "tell others too. We not like people in forest."

With that it turned, leaving him laying on the ground. The werewolf they'd captured bound towards him, as if to rid the forest of the last human but the Demon grabbed it, yanking it out of the way and barking sharply at it. If Jed hadn't seen it with his own eyes he'd have never believe it, but the werewolf backed down. Two of the wolves joined him, one was half crup, but still predominately wolf. The other was as large as the werewolf, but seemed to know the Demon well, and it stood next to him as they all disappeared into the shadows. A wand flew at him from the darkness, landing right next to Jed and though Jed wasn't sure he thought he heard laughing.

After taking his wand in hand Jed worked hard to raise himself enough to get a look around. The wolves had massacred their party and somehow Jed felt that they were at fault, after all they had been the ones torturing the werewolf, something he disproved of, but did nothing about. Using the best spell he knew of to knit bones Jed was able to stand again taking the time to heal each of the larger wounds he carried.

Once he was able to move about without unbearable pain Jed looked around into the shadows to be sure the Demon and his wolves had gone. He did not see the jade green eyes in the darkness nor did he feel the stare that followed him as he moved further on. The first order of business was to check his companions. He skipped over two of them, as their throats had been ripped out and their spines showed through the blood. Another had his whole abdomen removed and Jed knew that the werewolf had done it, he'd seen werewolf attacks before. The others all seemed to have died slower, but in less horrible ways. The last person Jed checked seemed dead, but he was the least wounded of the group and though his heart didn't seem to be beating there was still a bit of rosiness in his cheeks. Jed checked again and then smiled as a vial rolled from the man's hands.

Searching the robes, Jed found a second vial, this one of bright red liquid. "Never let another man do the job, right Robert?" he whispered as he poured the violent red liquid down the man's throat and waited. The wait only last a minute and the man, Robert coughed. He looked around weakly and smiled half-heartedly. "Chased them off did you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"No," Jed said, "the Demon let me go. I think I was the only one suppose to survive though. You and your stupid Auror tricks saved your ass again, didn't they?"

The man coughed and Jed stood, helping the man to his feet. "We'd better go before they come back after you." Then, waving his wand the other five men raised into the air and followed leisurely behind them.

"It was the Wolf-Demon then?" Robert asked after they'd walked for a short period of time. He seemed to be gaining life the longer he stood.

Jed looked over to him and then back to the path they were walking. "No one's seen a Demon in over a hundred years, they don't even teach about them anymore. It'd be like the dragons returning to the forest. But, if it wasn't a Demon I don't know what I would call it. It had eyes that bore through your sole and its skin... oh, dragon skin looks like silk compared to that skin. It looked almost human sometimes too, it's odd, but I swear I've seen those eyes before," he said and the two lapsed into silence, contemplating what they had left behind.

The 'Demon' as they called it was much closer than they would have imagined and the two wolves trailed close behind, always staying out of sight.

"We're not going to blame this on them," Jed said as they neared Hogsmeade. "We where the ones that brought this on ourselves. I think it was just protecting the wolves and the forest."

Robert began to say something but Jed cut him off. "I'm serious. If we tell others that it was their fault they'll go in and massacre everything in that forest that moves. It let Will and Charlie go with a warning last time, but we didn't listen apparently. It's our fault for going back. Maybe it was the werewolf that set it off, I swear he talked to it, but whatever it was he was defending something he wasn't attacking us for no reason. I don't want anyone else to die because they want to go find a Demon, understand?"

Slowly Robert nodded. He wasn't sure what to say, and though he didn't like the idea he had to admit that they weren't exactly the better of the two parties. "He talked to the werewolf?" he asked, surprised. "Like they had a conversation, I thought werewolves couldn't speak."

"He can speak English, but he was speaking lupish, I swear I've never even heard of anyone that could speak to dogs or wolves, but he was doing it. Maybe it's something Demons can do, talk to animals. But, when he spoke English it was almost like..." he paused and tried to imagine the voice ringing through his head. "As if he were a wolf trying to talk like a human. It was the most amazing thing. If I hadn't seen him I might have though he was a dog or wolf."

"Maybe it's a new species," Robert commented. "Hagrid's always trying to mate the weirdest animals together. He's been doing it since before I was at Hogwarts."

"But he was almost human in form. Do you think Hagrid would mate a man to some creature? That's more than just a little illegal, he's not the sort that would do that either. No, I don't think it's a new animal. I think it may really be a Demon."

Someone screamed and the two looked up. Several men were rushing at them. "What happened?" They all asked at the same time.

Jed grinned as best as possible. "We weren't ready for the forest I suppose," Martin didn't think there was anything dangerous in there, but I think he found something he couldn't handle."

"Mum's going to kill me," Jed heard through the crowd. "She told me not to tell you guys. She said you wouldn't believe me and you'd all go rushing down into the forest and get yourself killed." A shock of bright red hair appeared and a then came a second. Two red haired boys pushed through the crowd to Jed.

"Sorry Charlie," Jed said. "I just had to see it myself. I didn't believe you, no one did, but I saw them. I saw its eyes, you were right."

"Oh come on," Charlie said, exasperated. "Hagrid even said he saw the wolf that brought me back, that should have been enough."

The boy next to him looked almost sick as he stared down at the bodies. "What did this?" he asked, examining the throats that had been massacred. "It looks like a werewolf."

Jed's eyes dropped to the ground. "Well..." he said in an uncertain tone.

The redheads eyes flew to Jed. "You didn't?!" he exclaimed and then his voice dropped to a whisper. "You didn't really think that the Demon might be a werewolf, did you? And you went and found one..." he paused, thinking. "What happened, how come you and Robert are still alive? If you caught one and he got loose... well I don't think I would have expected to see anyone ever again unless they were turning furry once a month."

•


	9. Friends and Enemies

Chapter 09

• Friends and Enemies •

"I'm telling you it ain't human," Jed said, planting his hand solidly in front of him on a desk. The wizened wizard who occupied the other side of the desk sighed.

"Tell me again why you went into the forest," he said calmly.

Jed looked down at his hands. "When I was teaching about werewolves last week, Charlie Weasley – I'm sure you know who I'm referring to – asked if there were werewolves in the forest who could transform at will, or who could partially transform. He said he'd seen a man that was like a wolf in the forest when he was with William McBane a few months back. Naturally I didn't believe him but he insisted it was true, he said he accidentally petrified himself when he was caught by the person. William had to carry him out on a wolf, one that Hagrid said looked remarkably like a werewolf, but seemed quite docile."

"After hearing Charlie and William talk about it and then confirming the story with Hagrid I decided that it might be best if I went and confirmed it myself. The easiest way would to follow a werewolf and see if he led me to the new wolf-man apparition. So I spoke with a few people down at Hogsmeade who agreed to go with me. William was no longer interested..."

"I have spoken to him about the forest and he knows that unless he is doing something useful there I do not approve of him skulking around in it," the elderly wizard said. "He is still being trained as the Care of Magical Creatures professor and I would hate to lose him before I can even get him to teach. Since the loss of Professor Kettleburn I have had little luck in the replacements until William came along. Between the training he is receiving from Professor Grubbly-Plank and Hagrid's unprecedented knowledge of beasts I think that we will have an excellent teacher next year," the man finished, stroking a large red bird that was perched next to the desk.

"I know, I know," Jed said looking at his hands. "I shouldn't have even tried to convince him but he was the only one I knew of that had ever seen it. He said Mundungus Fletcher had been with him the first time they heard it, but it never actually showed itself. And I know I couldn't take Charlie with me, that would be endangering a student, so the guys at Hogsmeade agreed to go with me, they even said they knew of a wolf that would be around so I was glad to have them."

"Well, they did know a werewolf but instead of following it they insisted on capturing it and torturing it. I asked them to leave it be but I had no support so I stayed and watched trying to make sure they didn't kill it or hurt it too terribly. There wasn't much I could do, because if I freed it, well, I didn't think any of us would live. Please Albus, don't go misinterpret what the creature did, I am pretty sure it was defending itself. I've met all sorts of evil creatures in my life and if he had been evil I don't think I'd have left the forest."

Albus Dumbledore sighed and tapped his finger on the desk, thinking long and hard. "Tell me about the creature please," he said finally, a sparkle of interest in his eyes.

"It was the most, the most fascinating beast I've ever seen. He scared me to death but he didn't seem to be a killer, not like the Chimaera I encountered two years ago, this thing was vicious yes, but... it was protective I think. I heard it before it appeared, or some of the wolves at least, I thought some creature was watching us in the bushes. There was no way I could have known that there was a pack of three dozen wolves laying just beyond the light. When they came out he was in the lead, a wolf on each side of him. One of them wasn't all wolf though, it seemed to have been bred from a wild Crup and the other... a huge silver beast that was at his side, I thought might be a werewolf."

For a minute Jed closed his eyes, struggling to remember. Dumbledore cleared his throat and Jed opened them again. "I think perhaps there is a better way," he said softly and then stood, making his way to a cabinet against the wall. He opened it and removed a shallow stone basin. "No doubt you know what this is," the headmaster said as he picked it up and carried it to his desk. The silvery contents threw an ominous glow on the room and Jed shivered but simply nodded. His experiences with a Pensieve had not been good ones.

"You know how to use it then?" Dumbledore asked as he placed it on the desk between the two men.

Once again Jed nodded, his second set of shivers had gone completely unnoticed by the headmaster. Tapping his wand to his head Jed whispered a few words, thinking of the moment before he'd seen the boy. A chill ran through his mind as if someone had raked over it softly and he slowly pulled the wand away from his head as the chill continued, softly plowing through his thoughts. Finally his mind warmed again and Jed opened his eyes to find a long silver taffy like substance hanging from his wand.

Carefully Jed dropped it into the Pensieve, wishing he didn't have to, it disturbed him to no end having someone see his thoughts and memories, or seeing someone else's for that matter.

There was a knock on the door and Jed closed his eyes, not really wanting to see who else was there. Dumbledore seemed to already know and he smiled. "Come in Mr. Weasley," he said, loud enough to hear through the door. "You're right on time," he added as Charlie Weasley walked through the door.

"Please, have a seat. Professor Herecule and I were just discussing the so called Wolf-Demon. He is about to show me the memory of exactly what happened and, with his permission, I would like to have you accompany us."

Jed closed his eyes, he really didn't want Charlie to see this. Charlie may have been an excellent student, but reading about things was different from seeing them. "It's alright if you think he needs to," Jed said carefully. Dumbledore nodded.

After a brief explanation of what was about to happen Jed leaned forward and touched his wand to the silver-white mixture of memories. Two other heads leaned in around him and suddenly he was sucked down and standing in a forest clearing.

Three men who Jed did not know were prodding the werewolf who was being held captive in mid air. Jed was standing there with them, sort of half poking without any expression at all. Truthfully he didn't much care for werewolves, but he didn't like them mistreated either, he just wasn't about to turn on them they'd already threatened him once. Besides, he knew Robert Hillcraft, an Auror who had a thing against werewolves, and though none of the others would be able to duel with him Jed wasn't sure about Robert."

All of the participants except Jed seemed to know who the werewolf was and they were teasing him in whispers, saying things about his family and the past. Jed looked away sadly, hoping that Charlie wouldn't look down upon him now, but neither of them were watching the men or the werewolf, they were staring into the bushes.

The bushes rustled as if there were a calm wind playing with their leaves, but Jed was sure there was no wind, the night had been dead, he remembered that. After a moment of staring at the bushes eyes began to appear as if by magic. Jed's own eyes finally began seeing through the shadows that were hiding them. There was three pair of them a brown pair that looked normal for a dog, and then a green pair that made Jed shiver and continue his glance. He didn't like those eyes, they saw him for what he was, they judged him. The last set, one blue and one purple didn't look like a dog's eyes at all but he knew they were from the great silver beast who had almost took off one of his legs.

"Ah," he heard Dumbledore speak beside him and saw the headmaster contemplating the eyes. "I wonder how long they were there before they showed themselves." Charlie was on his knees in front of the eyes, staring at them with fascination. It looked as if he wanted to reach out and touch them.

A whisper of growl emanated from the bushes and the trees seemed to tremble. Charlie backed away slightly, somewhat frightened of the memory. Then, almost so fast that it was hard to see the Demon and his two companions sprang from the bushes. The Demon was on all fours, and had he not had the long legs of a human Jed might have thought him a black wolf with a white stripe around his midsection. The belt was remarkable and Jed stared at it as the beast charged right through Charlie, eyes intent on its prey. There was something curious about it, the way it was always the same color and yet different. Even though it had been white it was a dull white and it absorbed light – until he looked directly at it and then it brightened until it was as brilliant as the sun. A thin strand of coiled rope hung from one side and a piece of leather next to it. The other side held a white knife that matched the belt so perfectly that it was hard to tell them apart.

The others cried out and Jed stepped back to watch what happened. It wasn't the boy who reached them first, thought it was a close call, but the huge silver wolf struck Frem, the leader of the little group from behind and he dropped his wand. The werewolf Travis fell away from the invisible jail it had been imprisoned in and immediately turned on Frem. Jed shuddered and looked away as the throat was ripped out in half a second. He heard Charlie gasp behind him, but he couldn't help him now, Dumbledore had wanted him exposed to this.

Jed's eyes turned from the werewolf, no longer worried about him – the Wolf-Demon was his concern now. He was downing two men at once, his arms had wrapped around them and he was still moving, one in each arm, until he slammed them into a set of trees. One man groaned, and stumbled, but the silver wolf jumped him and he was on the ground with several wolves on top of him. The second man was struggling to stand but having no luck as wolves were all over him.

The Wolf-Demon shivered and then it looked as if he changed form but he only stood. The demeanor, one of a killer changed to something else, something that looked foreign in nature but almost human at the same time. Jed thought it might be a glimmer in his eye but he stood slightly hunched and his eyes turned to the wands, everyone had lost them though some were flung while others laid near the body. The Demon slid through the clearing like wind and in a moment he had all seven wands tucked into the white belt. Once again Jed stared at it and then it occurred to him what it was. "A chameleon cured unicorn hide," he muttered under his breath as his eyes widened.

The Demon stood straight up and his eyes surveyed the battle, he barked and all of the wolves pulled away, mixing into the shadows and then appearing again behind him. A pure black wolf seemed to know him and looked for his hand for comfort. The Crup-wolf and the silver wolf were already there, waiting. They stood like two guards on either side of him. Jed snorted at the thought, as if he _needed_ guards.

The Demon moved again with the wolves flanking him, checking the men that could be alive, making sure everyone was dead and then it stepped back again, and looked at Jed.

When he finally stepped forward Jed took another long look at him again, it was the first time he had really slowed down since he'd emerged from the bushes and until then it was hard to really study him. The bark like skin wasn't bark like, it almost looked like mud which had dried quickly. A second layer covered it, an uneven layer it looked as if he'd been coated by a blue liquid and it dried on top of his skin – it wasn't part of the skin itself and Jed almost wished the Demon where there again so he could touch the skin to see what it felt like he wasn't quite sure about it anymore.

Dumbledore took a step forward and stared at the skin just above the belt. "I believe," he said quietly, "that the skin is a layer of something to protect him, the area at the edge of the belt is almost free of it."

Charlie said something and Jed turned to look at him. The boy was on his knees staring. "He didn't do that before," he said sullenly. "He only threatened us."

The Demons hair, which dropped to his chest in thick locks covered up most of his face and it was hard to get a good look at it. The eyes peered out between the hair as if it were used to it. Jed hated hair hanging in his face and he'd never seen anyone that could stand it, but this Demon seemed at home doing it. It was hunched again animal like and moving towards the memory Jed silently.

It spoke as it moved forward and Jed closed his eyes, listening as the words repeated in his head once again. They were slow and animalistic, it was like Demon had learned to speak to the animals before he learned to speak English. It was a he, most definitely male and at least a good deal humanoid.

The werewolf was with the wolves and when it jumped forward the Demon moved without hesitation grabbing it from the air and slamming it to the ground. It barked once and then tossed it to the side as if it were a rag doll. Jed gawked again, he'd never seen anything that could do that until a few hours ago. To top it all off the werewolf backed down as the two guard-wolves joined the Demon. Then, as if they had been a dream they disappeared into the shadows.

Jed thought hard about the Demon as his memory self resuscitated the Robert and then the memory faded and Jed found himself standing on the floor of the headmasters office.

"Did you see the two black leopards?" Charlie asked and Jed looked at him startled. "They were in the trees watching the whole time. The Demon noticed them but ignored them as if he didn't care."

"You're sure?" the headmaster asked and Charlie nodded from his position on the floor. He was slightly hunched over trying to keep from being sick. "I saw them when the memory started and as the Demon was leaving he looked at them. He knew they were there the whole time but he just ignored them."

"Black leopards?" Jed said quietly. "But they live in the southern Asia, in jungles. Not in a forest in England."

Dumbledore thought for a few minutes and then opened up a drawer in his desk pulling a paper from within. Carefully he handed it to Jed and waited. Jed read over it and paused. "But... but, that's impossible. Demons can't be seen by muggles, one or two occasionally can see them if they've got a little magic in them, but they're like dementors, muggles cant' see them, especially in mass."

"Then apparently it seems that whatever is living in the forest is not a Demon," he said calmly.

Slightly angered Jed stood to his full height which was a little overwhelming to most people, he was after all more than six foot and built thick like a professional beater. "Why didn't you tell us this before?" he demanded.

"And what? Have you look in the forest for the creature? It was readily available to those who looked, the towns only a few hour drive from Hogsmeade, it isn't something that anyone covered up, though some muggles believe it was hoax. I visited the zoo there and found the most remarkable thing about those bars, they had been melted and snapped by some great force. Nothing normal could have done that and I suspected that whatever did it was likely magical in nature. It took some thought to put the two things together and I wasn't sure until now."

"Tell me Professor, did you notice what he wore on his belt?" the headmaster asked after a brief paused. He didn't seem at all daunted by the height of Jed and Jed knew that no matter how big he was he was never as strong magically as the headmaster.

"Yes," Jed said, backing down. "He wore a specially cured unicorn skin belt with a robe of braided unicorn hair."

Shaking his head Dumbledore moved to the cabinet where he'd pulled the Pensieve from and opened up the door again, rummaging around for a minute he pulled out an almost identical rope and laid it on the desk beside his Pensieve. "Charlie, do you know what this is?" he asked and Jed was reminded that Charlie Weasley was still in the office.

Charlie stepped forward, having gotten to his feet again and picked up the rope. "It's light," he said as he weighed it in his hands and then began studying it closer, "there's four separate strands of hair in it," he said as he held it only inches from his eyes. "Three of them look similar, but one's quite dark, it's what makes the rope gray."

"The dark one is respun porlock hair and the clear hair is demisguise. The white hair is Unicorn of course, it has been spun in a special way so that it is a single strand, the rope is truly a magical thing and it takes months to make a few feet of it."

"So what's the last type of hair?" Charlie asked looking at it, "it's white, but a little clear, like a mix of the unicorn and demiguise."

Smiling Dumbledore took the rope from Charlie after he had finished looking it over one last time and handed it to Jed. "Do you recognize it? A few people at this school have encountered it."

For several minutes Jed examined it finally putting it down and looking to Dumbledore. "It isn't hair at all, is it? It's a strand of Acromantula web, right?"

"Precisely," Dumbledore said, almost eager. "Only one race has the abilities to weave this sort of rope, the centaurs. I believe they may know who this Demon-like creature is. He is after all wearing the rope and a sling very similar to the one's the give to their children. The belt is a conundrum though, I was unaware that such a thing still existed, and with the knife no less. This 'Demon' certainly is an oddity in this day and age, I'll give you that."

•

While Dumbledore spoke further to the teacher and student, far away in the forest the Demon beast named Harry was standing in front of the pack of wolves, staring into the eyes of a particularly vicious looking centaur. His almost black body was much larger than Firenze and his eyes looked a shade of grey, like unmoving ice. He had a wickedness to him and Harry didn't trust him at first.

"What purpose do you have here?" it asked in a voice filled with a sense of superiority. It had almost walked over Harry as he and the wolves celebrated their victory with a kill. Harry had even called upon the great cats to come and feast with him, he knew he needed to speak with them. They had arrived but still stayed in the trees, forever watching. For the third time it asked, and Harry looked up at it and growled, blood running down his face, his hair covered in it.

"Where Firenze?" Harry growled finally, not wanting to speak to this particular centaur.

The centaur seemed amazed at his speech, as if he hadn't been expecting it at all. He reached back to pull an arrow from his quiver but Harry lept straight into the air, grabbing a branch and flinging himself into the growth above. The centaur seemed to think he had disappeared into thin air. The wolf – the one the humans had called a werewolf seemed to take interest in the centaur and took Harry's position the moment he disappeared.

"He not like you," Harry said taunting the stupid centaur and wondering where Firenze had gone. It had been a long time, a few weeks, longer than Firenze had left him alone in a year and he hoped Firenze would be back soon.

The werewolf was well fed, but he seemed to want more so Harry smiled down at the centaur. "He hungry, not eat enough people tonight. Want to fight him before me?" he asked waiting to see what the centaur did.

"You've angered the wizards tonight and they have done nothing to you. For what reason do you do this?" it asked.

"They hunt pack," Harry said simply, not seeing anything wrong with protecting wolves, no matter where they came from. One lone wolf was the same as a pack wolf to him and if someone hunted it they were hunting the pack. "I tell them to leave before, and they come back and hunt pack."

The centaur smiled and relaxed slightly, though it was carefully watching the werewolf. "How do you know Firenze?" the elderly centaur asked and Harry dropped from the trees, landing crouched but not in an offensive stance.

"Firenze is Harry's friend," Harry said as clearly as possible, and rather matter-of-fact like. "Firenze come help Harry sometimes, Firenze tell of other wolves in cages."

"So that was your fault," the centaur said, studying Harry. "How long have you two been friends?" he asked as he watched the werewolf nervously.

Harry thought for a long minute, to him time passed a good deal differently than to other people, but he knew that too and wanted to answer the new centaur properly. "Year," he said trying hard to remember the season names too, but not succeeding. It had been before the snow, before the changing of the color of the leaves, but he couldn't remember what the season name was.

"A year?" The centaur asked with some interest, "and he's seen you a lot this past year?" he continued.

Harry nodded happy that the centaur understood him, he wasn't Firenze, but he'd do. He barked finally and the werewolf backed down, returning to the feast. The centaur watched with a sense of mild curiosity when Silver and Dog took their places at his side. They hadn't been eating yet – they had already eaten their fill before the night had started. He touched them gently to keep them from showing anger, the Centaur seemed to be nice. Not as nice as Firenze, but nice still.

"Name?" asked Harry, trying to be proper like Firenze had tried to teach him. "My name is Harry," he said with a great deal of effort to get it right, smiling as best as possible too. Firenze had always told him that to smile was polite (whatever that meant) so he did it. "...the Wolf-Demon," he added with a smug smirk, if people were going to call him that he would call himself that, he liked it.

"I am Shepaud," the centaur answered slowly, bowing slightly and grinning widely. "It is a pleasure to meet you Harry the Wolf-Demon."

Harry's eyes turned up upon hearing another centaur approaching and he fought to scatter the pack and disappear in the trees, but he wanted to know where Firenze was so he waited. A second centaur appeared, one that Harry had seen Firenze with occasionally, his light brown body much smaller and a kinder face than Shepaud, and older as well.

"Ronan!" Harry said quickly, forgetting that he had not been introduced formerly, he remembered the name from when he'd listened to them once. "Where Firenze?"

The centaur Ronan stopped and looked down at Harry utterly bewildered. He looked to Shepaud and then back to Harry. "What is this?" he asked slowly, curiously. His voice had a deep undertone to it as if he were sad.

"You do not know Harry the Wolf-Demon?" Shepaud asked gaining some more of his haughty nature back. "He seems to know you."

"Wolf-Demon," Ronan repeated slowly. "This is the wizard menace that haunts the forest?" he asked staring at Harry with sad brown eyes. "Why is it that he knows me and why does he ask for Firenze?" he asked mournfully.

"Firenze is his friend Ronan, this foal has said that Firenze has been his friend for over a year now. We had suspected he was going against the herd, but he has been with this boy a great deal it seems. It seems he only lied to protect this Wolf-Demon named Harry."

Harry watched the two talk between each other waiting as patiently as possible. Silver didn't like either of the centaurs, she didn't seem to like centaurs at all actually, but Harry held her back from getting angry.

"It is a sad thing we have done," Ronan said and Harry turned his ear away from them to listen to the forest. He noticed the wolves had almost finished off the animal and he barked at them, calling them away so they did not eat the piece he'd pulled away separately. Then, he hissed at the trees and the two great cats dropped to the ground, moving towards Harry. He temporarily forgot the centaurs and made his way to the meat. The two leopards ripped the large leg apart without even waiting and Harry listened to them as they silently purred. When they had finished off the leg only a minute later Harry bared his fangs and growled lightly then grunted and turned away from them, moving back to the centaurs. The cats would wait for him, but Silver stood next to them in case there might be trouble. Dog fed a little off the rest of the carcass, as he'd gained an appetite again.

"Are _they_ pack?" Shepaud asked, his hands having moved to a slightly more offensive position.

"Mine," Harry said trying to keep the centaur from having any thoughts of killing them. They may not be his, but he liked them a lot, at least a lot more than the centaur.

Relaxing, Shepaud smiled. "We were trying to decide if you were human," Shepaud said almost jokingly but Harry growled at them and he looked startled.

"I am not human," Harry said quite clearly. "I am Wolf-Demon," he insisted, thinking that being a Wolf-Demon meant he was wolf, and not human. He was happy when the humans had called him that.

The two centaurs exchanged looks and began to say something but Harry stopped them. "Firenze say council decree me as animal. He say I am of forest, I am _not_ human."

Another glance passed between the two and Shepaud said something under his breath that Harry didn't understand, Harry didn't like them talking without him understanding but he let it go this once. Ronan nodded lightly and then both looked back to Harry. "You were the one who attacked Firenze in the forest so long ago?" he asked dolefully, "the one who stole his crossbow?"

"I give it back," Harry snapped, "he not want it back, he said I can keep."

"Then, Wolf-Demon, if you are indeed that person you are of this forest, it is true that the council has declared you of the forest. If this is also true then the charges against Firenze need to be changed, and he will be invited back, but in order to help him you need to come with us and speak to the elders," Shepaud said. "Would you be willing to do this, to help your friend?"

It didn't take Harry much thought, even though he didn't really want to go to the encampment he didn't mind, he knew where it was, he'd seen it a few times form a distance, and he was confident he could get away without too much trouble. "If Silver and Dog come too," he said, and with a bark both of the wolves were standing next to him. He could find the cats later, they were not incredibly difficult to find because Harry knew where they typically slept.

There was a minute while the two centaurs discussed this and Ronan finally said it would be alright in the same slow voice that he seemed to have. Shepaud turned to him and bowed slightly, "we believe they will be allowed if they can be proven to follow your command which does not seem to be something that would be difficult."

Feeling much better about the battle of the night and the meeting with the centaurs Harry followed behind them at a brisk trot, wondering when Firenze would be able to return. He was getting much better with his weapons, particularly the sling and he really wanted to show Firenze.

•

Far off in the distance the headmaster of Hogwarts stood at his window and stared at the forest wondering what animal endangered the students now. He knew he would have to put very strict punishments on those caught entering into the forest so that none of the students would be harmed. Hagrid with talk with the centaurs soon and maybe they would get answers then.

The thought of the eyes bothered him, even though they were almost the eyes of a dog, they seemed to remind him of something forgotten. But, he had seen a lot of eyes in his day and it was hard to remember where he had seen them.


	10. Gwyl

Chapter 10

• Gwyl •

"What manner of creature do you bring to the encampment?" an angry centaur asked as Harry was held at the gates of the makeshift community. The lines on his face creased in anger, and Harry could feel fury coming off him in waves. His black body matched his black hair perfectly. His dark eyes irritated Harry to no end; it was perhaps the way he looked down upon Harry, as if he were nothing. Harry didn't like to be looked down upon; even Shepaud had figured that out quickly.

The centaur named Ronan stepped forward, "Please leave us be Bane, we have a matter to take before the council."

The head of the new centaurs, the one whom Ronan referred to as Bane, took an angry step forward. It was obvious he didn't like Harry or the wolves, but at the moment he was focusing on Harry. Silver, who seemed more annoyed than Harry, took a few leaps forward to stand next to Shepaud, snarling with teeth bared. Shepaud, who hadn't much like Silver didn't move at all. In fact he seemed to have an even greater distaste for Shepaud than he had for Silver.

"What sort of beasts is this, baring its fangs at me?" Bane asked, backing up angrily and reaching for the crossbow he carried.

With the threat of a weapon being pulled, Harry nudged Dog just slightly and reached around to his back, hand on his knife. Once Dog had stepped forward Bane paused, staring at Harry.

"I suggest that you leave us be Bane," Shepaud said with a smirk. "We wouldn't want these two wolves to tear you apart, and they wouldn't be at fault if you pull a weapon on our guest, the Wolf-Demon."

Bane paused and looked between Harry and the wolves and then over to Ronan who nodded to him. Then, with the utmost surprise on his face Bane stepped away from the gates, those behind him stepped back as well. Most of them had serious looks and were far more wild looking than the two with Harry. None of them liked Harry very much it seemed, and they had a contentious look even though they backed away. There were a dozen of them at least, and all of them followed Bane so Harry made a note of each of their faces – he knew they were his enemies.

Inside the compound Harry found that the other centaurs gazed upon him with awe, and the children had to be held back by the female Centaurs so they didn't run forward. Harry had never seen naked woman at all and something about them threw him off a little, it wasn't something he was expecting at all. The children fought to stand in the front of those who lined the path that had formed and some of them waved at him then hid behind the older centaurs.

Some of the centaurs that were no longer children, but not yet adults, watched Harry with defiance, but not hateful. Most had never seen a human before or anything else that was very far beyond the boundaries of their home.

"Ronan!" an elderly centaur said from the end of the path. "For what reasons have you brought guests amongst our herd?"

Harry realized that Silver and Dog were being considered guests as well and he had an instant liking for the old Centaur. He smiled brightly and wished he would have brought a gift like Firenze had given him when they had met for the second time. Silver was still cautious, but Harry calmed her with a soft whine that most probably didn't hear at all.

Two more elderly centaurs appeared as well, and though they said nothing, Harry liked them as well. They didn't look down upon him. They simply smiled and waited. Shepaud took the lead as they neared the three centaurs and when he slowed Harry slowed with him hoping he was doing things right. He did not understand everything so he simply copied Shepaud.

Shepaud bowed and with him Harry bowed the wolves dropped to their bellies but their eyes stayed alert, ready to strike if something happened. When Harry rose from the bow he paused and spoke slowly and as clearly as possible. "Is honor," he said hoping it was the right thing to say.

The elderly centaurs were all smiling even brighter when Harry finally met their eyes again. Shepaud took another step forward and gestured to Harry. "Allow me to present Harry, the Wolf-Demon. We have come to discuss his presence in the forest and his affiliation with Firenze."

The elders seemed a little surprised, but they didn't say anything. Instead they turned and entered a cave that lay beyond them. Shepaud followed, and Ronan waited behind until Harry followed as well. Silver was cautious on entering the cave, taking a moment to sniff and was on guard as she entered. Dog proceeded with the same thing, though his tail was raised in the air like an antenna. Harry had seen him do it, but it was only when he was very uncertain about where he was.

After following the centaurs for several minutes down the path, deep into the cave, they entered into a large cavern. More of the elderly centaurs were gathering there, they seemed to have known Harry was coming. There was a crude chair that had been placed under the raised area the elderly centaurs stood on, and Harry was led to it. After seating himself Ronan stepped forward and spoke quietly to all of the elderly centaurs for a moment. Harry assumed these people were the council that he was coming to see.

"You've come to us as a friend?" an elderly centaur said, breaking the silence that had overtaken the cave. "And yet you bring two beasts of the forest amongst us who have no desire to be friends," he continued slowly but quite clear. Then he waited for Harry to answer.

"They pack. Friends, not let come alone..." he paused searching for the right word. Firenze had told him lots of words; it just took him a while to remember them sometimes. "Be Guards, not like others. Listen sometimes, but not always."

"And do you find yourself under threat here amongst us?" Another asked, he was much louder, and from what Harry could see much younger as well.

"When I come here..." Harry said, pausing and thinking again. He understood what was going on; they were playing games just like the wolves did, only instead of fighting or making threats of attacking, they played games with words. Harry was not good with words like Firenze, but he tried his best. "There were a group that angry when come. Centaur Bane show weapons. I carry weapons to... survive... but not threaten any centaur. Bane enemy – not like, want hurt. Wolves here because not trust all centaurs. I here because friend need help."

The man who had spoken up had nothing more to say, but the elderly man who had met Harry just beyond the gate did. "It is a rash thing which Bane did. He does not feel at peace with much of the world, including the animals of the forest. While he is a part of the herd, he does things which insult us sometimes. We are sorry for the lack of comfort you feel amongst us and are grateful that you have come to use to remedy the wrong which we have done to Firenze."

Several of the group nodded adamantly and Silver and Dog chose this time to lay on the ground, watchful, but no longer tense. Harry was happy he hadn't had to ask them and knew that their actions had not gone unnoticed. Centaurs were very aware of the things that went on around them.

"You speak to these wolves then?" The elder man asked again. He seemed to be some sort of leader of the group from the way he was positioned. He actually even wore a bit of jewelry around his neck, something none of the others did. Harry nodded his answer and moved his hand slowly down and Dog rose to it quickly, understanding the signal that he was being given. While most of the speech was verbal, there was more and more nonverbal things that Harry had been learning the longer he spent with the wolves, and they began to understand him even though his body was built different and he could not use the same signs they did.

Some of the centaurs seemed astonished as Dog rose, the movement had been so slight that it was almost a natural movement and not something out of the ordinary, so they did not see it. When Harry's hand rose again just slightly Dog again dropped to the ground and closed his eyes quietly. He was far more trusting of the centaurs than Silver was, he had been around Firenze a lot longer. "They hear you without words?" The old centaur asked.

"Speak in many ways," Harry replied back, having already decided what he was going to say. "They pack, I pack, we speak... without speaking. They not hurt anyone without being... angered, they safe to have here."

"That had been made known to us," he said calmly, "as well as your friendship with Firenze, son of Chefmith. It is curious to us how you became known to him, and we would ask that you help us understand."

The suddenness of it surprised Harry. He'd been wanting to get to it from the beginning, it was hard to play the games of words, but he was patient, hunting required much patience and he had learned it long ago. Now that they had brought it up, Harry took another moment to pause and remember all the words he had wanted to speak.

Meet while hunting in winter," he said not telling them that he hadn't really been hunting because he didn't know any other way to explain looking around the forest to explore new things. It was simpler this way. "I... walk into him, new to forest then. Not hear all things like now. Never see centaur before, so different, man in horse, not understand. When speak to me make scared. Think might make return to place before. Not want to go back, not like it there."

Again Harry paused, trying to make sure that he got it all right. He knew some of his words weren't quite right, but he was trying to do the best he could. "Run, hide in tree before he follow. Tree old, it say it dying, but only good tree around. Tree make noise, Firenze see me, speak nicely. Only man ever speak nice so I think to come down. Firenze have weapon, see before, so tell go away. He is talking about seeing we meet and he not go away. Take off weapon, try be nice, show not harm. I still not believe... growl at him."

"Dog," Harry motioned to the Dog on his left, "come, scare Firenze. Firenze think attack, I think Firenze hurt Dog, jump on back. Shake off, and go back, but when he turn I have weapon. He know I hurt if not leave, so he leave."

The next part was even more memorable to Harry. He'd heard Firenze repeat it to him a few times when he asked what had happened, how Firenze had come upon his home in the forest. "Firenze look for me much. Find when pack fight spiders. Do not kill spider, but... wound. When pack kill first spider they kill second and I is left alone. Firenze think they hurt me too, does not understand pack. Take me to cave and heal me. When heal I go back to pack and Firenze follow. When morning come again he give presents, trying be friends. I try be friends too, he always come back help learn forest better, learn words better. He tell of trees, plants, food, night, day, teach many things. Fire help stay warm when away from home, give me weapons and talks much.

There was a whisper that ran through the elders and Harry stopped, hoping he hadn't said anything wrong. He remembered something else too, and he added it, hoping it would make things better. "I ask Firenze not tell others about me. Do not want to be human again."

That too caused more whispers, and Harry could only watch as all of the centaurs spoke between themselves. Shepaud came over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. Silver watched, but did not move from the position she'd found on the ground while Harry was talking.

The council finally stopped talking and the elderly centaur addressed Harry again. "Why do they call you Wolf-Demon, the wizards of the town nearby?"

Harry wasn't sure _exactly_ what a wizard was, but he understood that they were people. The people from the town the Will person came from. "They come into forest and take... troll," Harry said, remembering what it was – Firenze had told him it was not a bear, but a troll. He'd tried explaining it further, but it had confused Harry for the most part and Harry hadn't really listened, but he did remember what it was called. "I run them away. Humans not welcome, not need in forest. They come hurt things, spiders, I make leave. Warn them not come back. They come again now and hurt pack – other pack, wolf. I hurt them back and send man back tell him not come back and tell others."

Shepaud cleared his throat and Harry stopped, looking to him. "It was not a normal wolf," he said aloud once Harry had paused. "The wolf that the wizards had captured was a werewolf. We saw it being captured and left so that the wizards would not see us. When I found the Wolf-Demon he was with the werewolf and they were eating a fresh kill. We had tracked them from the dead wizards to make sure that the werewolf did not come to the herd," Shepaud said, and paused. Harry could see the old men nodding between themselves before Shepaud continued. "Ronan was behind me in the dark to make sure I was not in trouble, and he came out when the Wolf-Demon spoke to me. Harry the Wolf-Demon asked for Firenze immediately, he didn't like either of us at all. The werewolf did not seem to like us either, but he called the beast away from us easily. He also spoke to the two great cats that have been roaming the forest since winter, and let them feast upon the kill. They listened to him as well, and he called them his own, he also refused to be called human and said he was an animal."

"It seems Firenze has been good friends with him, he was told about the ruling of the council when Harry was deemed an animal and that Firenze should leave him be. I believed that Firenze was away from the herd because of Harry..."

Harry growled, hating to hear his name repeated over and over again. Harry wasn't scary and was given to him by humans; it wasn't something he liked very much. Wolf-Demon was also a human name, but they had given it to him because they were frightened of him and that made things a little better.

It struck Shepaud as odd, that Harry growled at his own name, but he remember they way Harry had introduced himself in the forest, happily calling himself the Wolf-Demon instead of just using his name. "I had come to believe that Firenze had reason to be away from the her and that the Wolf-Demon was the reason for this. I had wondered until a moment ago, why he never spoke of him, it would have saved him from leaving, but if he made a promise to the Wolf-Demon to not speak of his presence he kept that promise fully no matter the cost."

Once again he paused, letting everything sink in. Harry was glad that Shepaud was speaking, he was having a hard time with it and needed a few minutes to think of more words he could say.

"I propose," Shepaud said, "that as he is of the forest we return Firenze, his crimes are minor compared to those which he was charged with before. They are diminished even more by his friend the Wolf-Demon driving the wizards from our forest. We have avoided blame because of this and the Wolf-Demon has done us a great service. I also propose that since he has come to us as an animal of the forest, that we give him a true name, something he can call himself with pride. The wizards call him Wolf-Demon, but he is much more than that, and his human name is of no consequence anymore."

More whispers came from the council. Several of the older ones nodded directly to Shepaud and then to Harry, with smiles on their faces. The whispers last much longer than before and Harry took the time to turn to Shepaud. "No more human name?" he asked, excited that he would be given a forest-name, something he could call himself without thinking about _before._ Shepaud nodded back earnestly; glad Harry was happy about it.

"As for the matter of Firenze, he will be called back from his quest and he will be retried. If the information that you have given us is correct, and his actions are purely because of the teaching of the forest to this Wolf-Demon, then his crimes will be no more. We are glad to have such a beast in the forest, such intelligence is hard-won and to have revoked the status of being a human or wizard is a great thing to the council. It is true that he is a beast of the forest and this council recognizes that fact in front of all those witnesses today. As for his name we would ask Harry, the Wolf-Demon if he would like a new name so that he may become even more separated from the life before."

"Yes," Harry replied enthusiastically, so much so that Dog's tail rose suspiciously, and he opened his eyes wearily to see what was going on.

"Then the council has decided to name you Gwyl in honor of the great black wolves that were named Gwyllgi. They once roamed the forests and the great land beyond us. Their howl struck fear into muggle and wizard alike, and their eyes were as beautiful as yours. With your pack you are well fit for this name. Do you accept it?"

The once savior of the wizarding race, Harry Potter was no more in almost an instant. The new animal, Gwyl bobbed his head up and down. He was named after a wolf, or a pack of wolves and it made him ecstatic inside, so much so that he pulled back his head and howled into the cave. Dog and Silver joined in. The echo made the howl hum for several minutes after Gwyl and the wolves stopped. Some of the council seemed to find the outburst funny while others simply smiled at Gwyl.

Finally the old centaur, who has spoken most of the time, spoke once more. "Then Gwyl it is."

"And what shall we tell the wizards if they come?" one of the other centaurs asked. "Hagrid will certainly show up, he comes into the forest often and he'll find a reason to come looking for Gwyl. His winged beasts often come close to the encampment if he doesn't keep them fed. That'll be an excuse, he's used it before."

"Then perhaps we shall say we have seen very little of the Wolf-Demon in the forest. We shall give him the name Gwyl and say that is all we know. The wizards speak in half-truths to us, and it is our charge to protect the animals of the forest. Is he not one of them that does as he sees fit to protect the forest? We should protect him as he protects his pack and the great-spider who was endangered."

"Is this how the council feels things shall be done," a third centaur asked, this one looked utterly tired and his face was the only one which had not shown any emotions during the whole proceedings. The rest of the council muttered approvals, one even rearing and saying he would protect Gwyl as he would his own foal. "Then it is decided," the emotionless centaur said. "We shall not tell the wizards where you have come from or that you are any different from the other animals. You shall be Gwyl, the Wolf-Demon and that is all we will say."

Gwyl smiled broadly at his new name and the promise the council had made. He certainly didn't want to return to the human world now, he liked it much more in the forest where he was with animals that cared for him, animals he protected and who protected him.

"What of the weapon he carries, does the council not see that it is from the unspoken cavern, that it was a magical items which the elders had hidden away long ago? Why does he wear it? Did he steal it from the cave?"

Gwyl checked his belt; he only wore the knife and rope. The sling had disappeared sometime during the night, he would have to go looking for it, it had been lost once before as well, but he had found it. The rope was no weapon though, at least not normally, so they must be speaking of the knife. Either way Firenze had given them to him and he did not want Firenze to be in trouble, but neither did he want to hurt his new friendship with the centaur herd.

"Perhaps they were given to him," Shepaud said, taking the choice away. "The cavern is not forbidden, it is simply ignored. We are not to use magical items, but Gwyl is of the forest, not of the herd, he has no reason not to use these weapons. It is good to give them away, even one, so that they do not defile our grounds. It has long been council to bury them away, but it was never said not to return them it was simply something the council did to insure we were not insulting the wizards who offered them to us."

"This is true," one of the council members said, "it is good to rid ourselves of such things, perhaps we will be able to empty the cave in the future so that we are not tainting the grounds that our herd has held sacred for so long."

"Then there is no problem for Gwyl to carry these weapons, they are not something we value or want, Firenze was good to give them to Gwyl as an act of kindness." Shepaud said. The knife had not gone unnoticed, and he had suspected it was something that Firenze had given him, though he'd not mentioned it until it had come up. "It is late and the stars have risen and the moon begins to fall, is there anything else the council would ask of Gwyl before we take our leave?"

No one spoke and Shepaud bowed, with Gwyl following close behind, trying his best to respect the elders. He was happier than he had been since releasing the animals from the zoo, and it was showing on his face as Shepaud showed him out of the cave. "You must wait for a while to allow the word of the council to spread before you wander into the camp," he explained. "I will go and get some food and water for you and your friends. Please, do not wander away."

Dog and Silver settled against the rock with Gwyl sitting in between them. Gwyl nodded off and was only awakened by a booming voice that carried through the encampment. The giant named Hagrid was at the gates of the camp and Gwyl didn't like that. The centaurs would keep their word, they would not tell the humans of him, but if Hagrid saw him then it might not matter. They would come again and again.

Though Shepaud had asked him not to move, Gwyl took a path that led away from Hagrid so that he would not be discovered, Silver and Dog following close behind. There was a surprised gasp and Gwyl found himself face to face with a Centaur that wasn't much older than him. "Hello," the girl said and Gwyl blinked, unsure what to do. If he turned to leave and the Hagrid man was there, then there really wasn't a point in trying to get the centaurs not to talk about him.

"Hello," he finally replied back, doing his best to talk normal just as he'd done in front of the council. It was difficult, but easier now than when he was with Firenze, because recently he'd been doing it more and more. Though at the moment he wasn't sure if he wanted to speak to the girl, while she seemed rather friendly he wasn't sure if he wanted any centaur friends really, Firenze was enough and he would be coming back soon.

"I am Dia and you are the Wolf-Demon, right?"

His reaction must have been funny because Dia laughed. "Everyone one knows about it. Bane is going around trying to rally people against you saying you cause a ruckus in the forest to bring the humans here."

"I tell them stay away," Gwyl said, "Warn them to stay out of forest. They not belong here."

This seemed to surprise her. To Gwyl she had had the most variety of emotions of anyone he'd met since he before, when he was outside the forest. "The others will want to know this," she said happily. "So they do not listen to Bane and his urgings. They have chosen to wait to see what the council makes of you, but many are already angry that you are here."

As best as possible Gwyl ignored the comment about Bane – while he was an enemy he was also a centaur and fighting with him might make the council reconsider their position. Until Bane became physical and tried to harm Gwyl, Gwyl would do nothing. "Elders say I am animal of forest. Give me name so that I am... known among animals. I am Gwyl."

It seemed that Dia knew what the name meant, or maybe it was the fact that they had given him a new name. Though he hadn't given it to himself it was better than the humans giving him a name, and his old human name he did not like very much. To him, it was better to be named by another animal of the forest than to be named by those from beyond it.

"Are you a wolf then?" she asked. "You walk like a man who has not learned to walk properly. You look a great deal like a boy but you are different too."

"You seen man?" Gwyl asked, knowing that rarely did the children get to wander far from the community. It was not something that they wanted – for their children to be corrupted by men. Firenze had told him of this and said how stupid the idea was, that all of them should have the choice to do as they wanted.

Dia looked irritated for a minute and then she smiled smugly. "I've watched them for hours at a time when they come near the borders of the forest. There is a house on the edge of their city which all are afraid of entering. They believe it is filled with evil so none dare enter it. I watch from the trees just beyond it, humans do not come there."

Such a place was the most interesting thing Gwyl had ever heard of in the human town. A place – a building of their own were they would not even wander. If he were ever at the edge of the town again he would look to see it. "Many times?" he asked, curious as to who had taken her, but not asking directly.

"My father believes that we should not thing badly of the muggles or the wizards, they have not harmed us in a very long time so there is no reason other than our packs customs."

"You're quite outspoken for being one so young," Shepaud said from behind Gwyl in a pleasant, but teasing voice. Gwyl had of course noticed the centaur approaching, but since neither Silver nor Dog had reacted he had assumed it was either Shepaud or Ronan, otherwise they would have reacted more defensively. It did surprise Gwyl a little that Silver was already getting along so well with Shepaud though, she had not taken a liking to Firenze in the short time she'd known him even though the other wolves did not mind his presence.

"There is a man named Hagrid here from the school that is beyond the forest. He is asking questions about you, Ronan is speaking with him now," Shepaud said. "It would be best if you and your wolves did not make an appearance while he is here. Dia can take you to a place where you may sleep. She will wait with you there until Hagrid has gone."

So the castle was a school. Even if the people didn't interest Gwyl there was still some fascination with the world, and he had never been to a real castle. He'd only seen this one for a few minutes. Maybe when everyone went home he would break in and see the castle for himself.

It was quiet as they walked down a beaten path but Dia seemed happy, enough that she almost bounced as she trotted along the path. Silver wasn't paying much attention to her, but Dog seemed to use it as an excuse to try and play, running up and down the trail ahead of them playfully. Gwyl was still tired, even though it was already morning the short amount of sleep he'd gotten wasn't enough.

"This way," Dia said, pushing some bushes aside and taking a less worn path beyond. Gwyl just followed silently as Dia led them to a safe place, wherever that was. In the end, all it was, was a clearing, not that Gwyl minded, he simply found a soft spot of earth and lay down quickly falling asleep under Dia's watchful gaze. _She_ didn't seem to need sleep.

It was Silver who woke him with a slight growl. Gwyl was lying over a good portion of her body drawing from its warmth with Dog on the other side of him. Silver was awake watching Dia. She was the reason Silver had growled, she was playing with the knife that Gwyl had had on his belt before he fell asleep. It startled him that she had it, and he hadn't awoken with her taking it, but Silver hadn't either apparently because she was only now growling. Neither Silver nor Dog would allow someone to disarm Gwyl without some sort of signal and Gwyl knew that.

Somehow Dia had done it though and now she was playing with it. It irritated him slightly more because she actually had it than the fact that she was playing with it, but she didn't seem to be doing it any harm, and he certainly wasn't using it at the moment. So instead of saying something he watched her, touching Silver so she would keep quiet while he watched. Dia balanced it on her finger, pointing down, and then walked around slowly, humming childishly as she did. Then, after walking around for a bit she'd snap her finger up and try and catch the blade is it fell.

Amazingly enough she didn't once cut herself, though she did drop the blade once to the ground. She seemed quite good at doing it. Gwyl never said anything, simply studied the way she was doing it until she stopped and walked backwards. Then, flicking the blade she watched it until it slammed into a tree, and fell to the ground. Retrieving it, she tried it again and again until finally Gwyl saw what she was trying to do. When the knife embedded itself into the tree she giggled and ran to try and pull it out.

"Father says I shouldn't act like this," she said when she turned and saw Gwyl's eyes open. "He thinks it is improper to do so, that I should learn how to heal and sew. Shepaud doesn't though, he tells father that I'm still young, that I should be able to do whatever I like. I think father wants me to do it to, and only says it so that the other centaurs do not think he's against the teachings, he lets me when no one else is watching."

"Why you throw knife?" Gwyl asked, curiously as he stood, moving the two half-sleeping wolves out of his way with ease.

Laughing Dia threw it again and missed once more. "When I get older I don't wish to depend on another to keep me safe. I want to do what I like, when I like. The only way to do it is to practice. Father always has to take away my knives when someone catches me with them, so I don't have them very often. Do you know how to throw a knife?" She asked as she walked towards him holding the knife out to him.

Gwyl shook his head, but still took the knife. "Here," she said, taking his hands in hers. "The easiest way is to put the knife like this and then hold it like this..." she stopped as Gwyl held the knife correctly and nodded her head. "Good now flick it like... No, harder next time," she continued as his knife went sailing through the air but landed far to the right of the target.

It wasn't like throwing stones, it was much more difficult, Gwyl determined quickly. Still after forcing himself to learn the other weapons Firenze had given him, learning to throw a knife wasn't too extremely difficult, and Gwyl sound was able to hit the tree every time, and it even stuck every fifth or sixth time. "Wow," Dia said happily. "You're already better than me. What else can you do?"

Gwyl uncoiled the rope from his belt, and she paused as she watched him. With a few small movements, Gwyl had a loop formed in the end and he tossed the rope up, catching Dia's two hands together and cinched it tight almost instantly. She yelped with surprise, but seemed extremely happy once Gwyl had released her. "That's like some of the traps my father taught me, but it's with a real rope that you hold, not a trap. How did you learn that?"

The truth was that Gwyl wasn't sure, he remembered seeing it somewhere on a box, something called a television, but he didn't remember why it had done it in the box, or why he'd seen it, so he just shrugged. "I see human do it," he explained as best as he could remember. "Before I come to forest, when I human."

"So you where human?" Dia asked curiously. "But you're not any more. That's good because we're not allowed to talk to humans, but I don't think I'll get in trouble if you're my friend."

Friendship was still a relatively strange concept to Gwyl, Firenze was his friend, but he'd never had a friend his own age besides _her_, and he had disappeared even before he could get the silver-haired girls name. "You want to be friends?" he thought out loud, not sure exactly how he felt about that. Could a person have more than one friend?

"I thought we were," she said cautiously, not really sure anymore.

"Then we friends," Gwyl said, clearly making the end to the discussion of their friendship. She was nice enough; perhaps it wasn't bad to have more friends.

The tone of the conversation changed a little, Gwyl suddenly seemed less suspicious, and more comfortable in her presence. "Have got other toys," he said, not really understanding that there was a difference between a weapon and a toy. It was perhaps because no matter what sort of toy Dudley got, if it had the ability it was weapon in his hand. More often than not that so called 'toy' was used to hurt Gwyl until it was broken.

"Firenze give me whip and sling, but... lose sling last night before come here. Have crossbow, but too big to carry lot," Gwyl said happily, but he was still sad about losing his sling, it had been a fun toy.

Dai pulled a sling from somewhere, and Gwyl looked at her surprised. He hadn't seen the sling at all on her. Dog, immediately recognizing the sling stood playfully, waiting. Dia seemed a little surprised. Even though the two wolves had been sleeping with him and almost always near him, she didn't seem to notice them until then.

Knowing what Dog wanted, Gwyl searched for a moment before finding a pinecone the right size. Tossing it to Dia, he looked to Dog for a moment, and then returned his look to Dia. "It's game," he said. "Throw far as can with sling."

With a quick jerk Dia sent the pinecone sailing through the air. Dog was off like a bolt of lightning darting through the trees until he leapt of a small stump and caught the pinecone mid air. "Wow," Dia breathed as Dog came trotting back, pinecone in his mouth. Smiling brightly, she took it and launched it through the air once more, and once more Dog was after it like lightning.

"Not all," Gwyl said and barked. Silver stood, stretching her muscles calmly and almost humanlike. She did this a great deal when she was waking or standing after resting. When Dog came trotting back and saw her standing he brought the broken pinecone to Gwyl instead, but Gwyl shook his head and barked at him so Dog took the pinecone to Dia again. "Try throw between two trees," Gwyl said, pointing at a path that led off in one direction. It was perfect for the demonstration.

This time, when Dia whipped the sling in the air, she was concentrating a lot more and Gwyl watched her, fascinated at how she held the sling. Firenze didn't hold it right, and he had told Gwyl that, so Gwyl had had to learn on his own. Until now he'd never seen the thing used correctly. The pinecone shot through the air on a much straighter path. Both Dog and Silver took off after it this time. Silver, however, easily outdistanced Dog and even passed by the pinecone, she jumped at a tree to the right, springing off it and twisting her body then sprung off the second tree easily ten feet in the air. The pinecone sailed by and she grabbed it in her teeth as it passed underneath. She landed catlike and then trotted back to Gwyl almost smugly.

Dia had no words, just like Gwyl when he'd first seen Silver do the trick. To him, it was almost like she was flying, and he had tried and failed a few times to do the same trick, but he couldn't balance himself to spring off both trees and make it to a third without problems. Usually he could get a good spring off the second but wasn't able to control where he was going to be headed. Dropping the pinecone at Gwyl's feet, Silver laid down again to his right and waited.

"How did she do that?" Dia asked when she could finally speak again. "It was like... like ... she was..."

"Flying," Gwyl finished her sentence. "Don't know how, just can." That was his best explanation. She'd done it on her own when Dog was being playful, and since then she would do it when he asked, but not until then. Gwyl wondered what sort of other things she could do. It made since in a twisted way for Gwyl, because she had been the pack leader she had to possess more than just normal skills.

Someone approached, and Dog and Silver both rose at Gwyl's side almost immediately. There was no growling, but Gwyl could feel them tense. Dia noticed the newcomers too and put away her sling before they appeared.

"Dia it's time for Gwyl to go," the male centaur who appeared said.

Dia brightened up significantly upon seeing him. "Dad, Gwyl's my friend now, he even said. It's alright isn't it?"

The man looked slightly perturbed when she said this, and he looked to Gwyl. "You are friends with my daughter?" he asked, his eyes sizing Gwyl up. It wasn't something that bothered Gwyl; since he'd arrived he'd been sized up by almost every centaur who'd seen him, with the exception of Dia and the elders.

Muted, Gwyl nodded, finding that it was suddenly hard to talk again as if his mind had blocked it out. "Yes sir," he barked trying his best to seem like nothing more than what the man saw in front of him.

Dia's father finally nodded and he looked to Dia. "It is alright, the elders have made a decree it the herd stating that Gwyl, the Wolf-Demon is not to be injured by any centaur unless they have been struck first. For now he is safe, but I can't say that everyone will abide by the ruling, there are still a few who contest it, even if only in secret, but that is enough. Gwyl you must be careful when you visit the heard, do not bring any centaurs to anger or it will be a bad thing. The night sky reveals nothing of your future, so it is perhaps something that is still undetermined even by the fates. Go home now and we shall see you again, right Dia?"

There was a swift nod and a smile from Dia, and Gwyl returned the smile then took to the trees.

•


	11. A Stray

Chapter 11

• A Stray •

Hagrid stalked away from the centaur herd encampment in a huff, even though he was friends of the herd, he was sure that they were hiding something from him. From above, Gwyl snorted. The Hagrid fellow was indeed a large man, but wasn't quite the fastest person. Silver and Dog were just downwind, watching the giant and his dog leave the camp.

He brushed through the roof of trees and dropped down next to Silver and Dog, barking a soft order for them to follow at a fair distance and make sure they weren't seen. Gwyl was interested in where else the Hagrid man was going to go, though he hoped it was out of the forest.

Sneaking back, he found Hagrid tromping through the forest, breaking large branches underneath his body. He seemed angry about something, and Gwyl was sure it was about him. They walked for several minutes until Gwyl heard more noises ahead, to the right, and he slid through the treetops to find himself staring down at the last person he expected.

Several people where there, all talking in normal tones, as if they were just going for a leisurely walk, but none of them was very old at all, there were no adults. Gwyl thought to scare them off, but he found the only thing he could do was stare at the youngest of them as her silver hair bounced against her head.

An older girl had a hold of her hand, and they were all just heading through the forest towards no particular place, though if they kept going for a few more hours Gwyl knew they'd end up at the spider nest area. Hagrid was forgotten, and he decided instead to follow this group and chase them off only if he had to. He wanted to separate the girl with silver hair, but if she didn't want to go or someone else noticed him, they would make more noise, and Hagrid and his big dog would surely come to see what was going on. Gwyl was sure _he_ could get away, but he might not ever have the chance to see the girl again.

It became apparent that the girl whose hand she was holding wasn't about to let go, and Gwyl grimaced. Maybe she didn't remember him; maybe she wouldn't like him now that he wasn't Gwyl anymore.

It didn't take long for Hagrid to find the group. Gwyl was surprised he'd heard them in the distance, but Hagrid came crashing through the bushes to their left, his crossbow held high as if he were about to shoot. Nearly the whole group shuddered from fright even though most seemed to recognize him.

Hagrid huffed. "What are ye' doing 'ere?" he demanded, angrily.

The gal in front smiled, the one that was holding on to Silver-Hair spoke. "Come on Hagrid, we were just taking a hike, it's Sunday, there's no lessons today. Besides my little sister came to visit Hogsmeade and wanted to see what the forbidden forest was like," she smiled coyly, her brilliant white hair falling in front of her eyes. Hagrid seemed to know who she was and shook his head.

"Yer getting' out of 'ere right now," he commanded, "I'll be walkin' ye' back to 'ogsmeade right now."

Two more faces appeared from the bushes beyond, the two who'd been lagging behind. Hagrid growled. "Ye don' need roam the forest. 'e ain't 'appy bout other wizards commin' in t'all. It'd be a right shame if ye' went and got yerselves killed. 'specially the young one. If I 'ear about ye' commin' in the forest again I'll report it to the headmaster, ye' 'ear me? All of ye'."

There was a pause and Gwyl felt a little angry, Hagrid was making his friend go away. But, still he waited for an opportunity, the man was a giant, and he could probably catch Gwyl if he dropped now.

"Get," he said waving his hands at them and trailing them home. The leader, now with only a white shock of hair, the rest had somehow turned black in only a moments time. Gwyl was curious as to how she did it. "Nym-fer-dora Tonks," Hagrid said, addressing the odd-haired girl. "Ye' know yer not suppose ter be 'ere. Ain't makin' no sense to go and bring yer sister into da forest."

"It's just Tonks Hagrid, and _she_ was the one that demanded it," the girl said.

Easily putting two and two together, Gwyl figured that Silver-Hair was the girl Tonks's younger sister, but he still didn't have a name for her. The whole group eventually got moving away, heading back towards the village and castle, all Gwyl could do was follow. Tonks didn't seem to have a very good footing and kept slipping on things, only being held up by her sister.

Finally after several minutes Gwyl got the girls name, Tonks started to whine to her. "Stray," she said half-panting, "you don't have to hold my hand all the time." Gwyl smiled at her as she promptly tripped over a rock and almost fell to the ground, only held by her sister Stray's grip.

Stray. Gwyl repeated the name in his head. It was an odd name, but he liked it. The rest of the ground snickered around her and even Hagrid chuckled. Tonks looked around with an angry face at everyone but didn't say anything at all.

The rest of the journey was quiet, and they were almost to the edge of the forest when Gwyl panicked. Silver and Dog weren't far off, but they wouldn't make it in time if the group started running, and he didn't want to lose the Stray again.

He rushed forward but found that the forest they were marching through was a lot less dense, and it took him a few moments longer to move between the trees and stay silent. By the time he was at the front of the group, they were breaking the tree line, and Gwyl felt angry that she'd gotten away.

Watching, Gwyl noticed that there were two more boys that were sitting on a little hill not very far off, holding wand-sticks, so he didn't dare come running out of the forest. He recognized one of them, Charlie; he'd captured him before and let him go. It was good to see that he wouldn't go into the forest anymore. The other one looked a lot like him because they had the same color hair, but the other one seemed older too.

The girl Tonks stopped not far from the trees, still holding her sister, and Gwyl hoped that they might turn back around and come just a little into the forest.

"I've got to take this little stray back to Hogsmeade," Tonks said huffily when one of the older boys snickered at her. She stuck out her tongue, and as Gwyl watched, it got several inches longer and then flicked back into her mouth. Stray, watched the whole thing in awe but didn't say anything.

Hagrid on the other hand put his hand up. "Yer' not goin' anywhere," he said with as much authority as he could. He probably suspected that the two would go right back into the forest if he wasn't watching them, and didn't want them to.

"I can take them," the second redhead offered. Tonks turned to him, her cheeks turning pink, then she quickly looked away, but Gwyl noticed it all from his vantage point. "I'll make sure that they get to town alright, and don't go wandering again through the forest. I _am_ a prefect, it's the least I can do, especially for a fellow Gryffindor."

Gwyl didn't know what a Gryffindor was, or a prefect, though the word seemed to nibble at the back of his mind like he _should_ remember. What was more important was that this redhead boy was going to be separating from the rest of the group, and Gwyl could probably knock him over without too much trouble. He'd just have to watch out for the wand-sticks.

The color of Tonks' hair slipped into a dark burgundy really fast, and Gwyl blinked again, he liked the way the girls hair kept changing colors, it was really neat. "Alright Bill, yer a good boy, don' be too long. Dun want ter get 'em in too much trouble."

The boy, Bill, nodded, and Gwyl could see Tonks's face getting red again, but Bill was paying more attention to Stray. "And what's your name?" he asked quietly as he offered her his hand, making Gwyl angry. He'd rather not have Bill holding on to her. She wasn't Bill's friend.

She seemed shy at first, but her hand finally reached up, and Bill slipped his around hers like an older brother. She still didn't answer right away; they just walked in silence for a few minutes while Tonks gawked at Bill and Stray, who just sort of walked along staring at the forest. "I'm Astraea," she finally said with a sense of pride. "And that's my sister Nymphadora," she added, pointing to Tonks who was only seeing Bill.

Bill chuckled, looking down at the little girl. They both had odd names, and so did their parents. "I know the name of your sister," he said smiling. "She's got quite a reputation at the school for blowing things up and getting into trouble."

Stray was staring off at the forest and Gwyl had the distinct feeling she was looking for him. Bill wasn't though, he kept an eye on her and a glance at the forest to make sure that no one was going to come out of the woods. Gwyl smirked when Bill only looked at the ground and not the trees above. At least Stray had the sense to look through them.

"Nymphadora you know the forest is forbidden," he said a little bit angrily, she shouldn't have been taking her sister into it for any reason. "I think I'm going to have to let a professor know and see if you'll learn not to do it next time. We don't want you getting killed by the Wolf-Demon."

The Wolf-Demon above smirked; he had been with them the whole time and didn't plan on killing them. He wouldn't have hurt the others if they would just leave the forest alone, leave the _pack_ alone.

Tonks seemed caught off guard and was slightly angered, giving Stray a glare. It seemed it hadn't been her idea to go into the forest at all. Gwyl was glad that it was Stray's idea; maybe she knew he was there and it was him.

"He won't hurt me," Stray pronounced out loud while she still searched the trees. "He's my friend."

Tonks groaned, and Gwyl felt slightly startled. Her revelation certainly meant something to him, but he hadn't been prepared for her to say it so defiantly. Tonks was the one that spoke after that, still only having eyes for Bill. "Don't listen to her," she said, "she seems to think she met him a couple of years ago when she was playing in the forest," she continued, laughing half-heartedly.

"I DID!" Astraea said loudly and then stalked off ahead of them towards Hogsmeade, "and no one will believe me, his name's Harry and when he ran away everyone was looking for him."

So she did know it was him, she remembered, and that made Gwyl smile. Tonks snorted, and Bill looked a little confused. "She thinks that Harry Potter is the Wolf-Demon. She says she saw him a few months ago stealing wolves from a muggle Zoo that's in the town we live in. She said she called to him, but a big Silver wolf ran off with him on its back."

This made Gwyl feel even happier, he knew he'd seen her even for a brief second. But at the same time, Bill seemed to be reconsidering the idea, that Stray was right, maybe it was because of Silver taking Charlie back to the Hagrid giant, surely Charlie remembered some of it and that idea must have sparked more thoughts.

"He's really nice," Stray said as she bounced along the ground in front of them. "He played magic with me before he ran away. He's my friend, and I want to go see him."

Played magic? Gwyl didn't remember playing magic, magic didn't exist to him, not until Firenze had told him about it. How could he play magic before he even knew about it?

Snorting Tonks said something under her breath, and Bill turned to her, a look of concern. Tonks explained. "She doesn't have any other friends, she's always talking about him. For the longest time I thought it was just an imaginary friend or some ghost that only played with her, but apparently she actually did meet Harry Potter before he disappeared a few years back. Mum didn't believe her 'til he disappeared, but it was him. I think she just makes some of it up though, she barely met him."

"She's always going back there during the summer, hoping he'll come back, even though the Daily Prophet said he'd died. She seems to think that he'll be her best friend no matter what anyone says about it."

"Why does she think that he's the same person she saw at the zoo?" Bill asked, curiously.

"Because he had green eyes, she saw them for a minute when he looked towards her."

Bill reconsidered again, but again shook his head as if it wasn't possible. Gwyl was trying to figure out why people thought he was dead, he wasn't after all, but maybe it was best if he let them believe he was. "That's impossible," he said quietly. "A little boy living in the Forbidden Forest, it's more than a little impossible."

"And anyway, it couldn't be Harry Potter even if he is alive," Bill said out loud, trying to convince himself as much as reassure Tonks. "He disappeared two years ago, he couldn't have been living in the Forbidden Forest and lived this long. If he's even alive he's living in an orphanage or off the streets where he could steal food to survive."

"It's him," Stray said with an air of finality, and Bill knew he wasn't going to change her mind as she started to trail a little behind them. "He had a knife too so he could just hunt food to survive."

Gwyl wondered how good a look she'd gotten of him. He'd barely seen her at all.

"Alright then," Bill spoke, acting rather sarcastic. "What color was his hair?"

"Black of course, just like his skin, he was really, really dirty."

Snorting as her older sister had a minute ago, Bill started walking again, glancing at both to make sure neither of them were getting too close to the forest Gwyl knew it. But, not far ahead the forest got right next to the lake and they had to take that path if they were going to the village, he'd get her alone then.

Gwyl was grinning because it would be easier than he first thought. Bill was not checking on her as much because Tonks kept distracting him doing funny things and holding on tightly every time she almost tripped. Bill took a moment every few minutes to glance back at Stray, but she was following along like a good girl and only staring at the forest.

Now Gwyl was a lot closer, and he found somehow that Stray seemed to know he was there. She was smiling a little and staring right at him, even though he was hidden in the branches above. She walked slowly forward, seeming to drift a little further back and a little further towards the forest. She waved and smiled even brighter when his face poked out for a moment, and she was also completely silent.

Now Gwyl was more excited than he ever remembered being. Stray was standing just beyond the trees, waving at him. The fact that she knew he was there and was smiling made things even more wonderful.

Now she was getting closer to him, getting closer and smiling. It was a relief, he only had to wait until she was under the trees so he could drop down and grab her, talking her back into the forest – if she'd let him. He didn't know if she would though, no matter how friendly she was being to him it didn't make it any more likely that she would go with him. She was human, even though he really didn't see her as human, only a friend.

The other two with her – the one's named Bill and Tonks – weren't watching as she finally stepped right up to the tree he had moved to, and waved him towards her. He swung around the back of the tree and then to the ground.

"Come with me?" he asked as he poked his face around the edge of the tree.

She nodded furiously, and he grinned brightly. Placing a hand around her waist he scaled the tree with a little more difficulty, but still almost completely silent. "Can we go away?" the girl asked, "to where you live, I want to play."

Nodding furiously, Gwyl put her on his back, "hold on," he growled and then leapt to the next tree and the next until they had moved far into the forest heading towards his home.

"...Bill can't we just got get one butterbeer before we go back? I won't tell anyone, I promise," Tonks said, almost whining. She liked Bill and wanted to go out with him even if he was resisting.

Bill turned to glance back and then swung fully around, almost causing Tonks to collapse next to him. "Where's your sister?" he asked, swinging in a full circle.

After Tonks recovered from stumbling, she too turned, looking around and saw no one. "Stray!" she yelled sort of half-heartedly. "Get your butt back here, we're going to go back to mum now, don't go hiding in the forest."

There was a long pause and no reply. "Stray!" she yelled louder again, "Stray get back her right now!" she continued, even louder. Still there was no answer. Tonks went into a half panic and took off towards the forest yelling her sister's pet name over and over again.

Bill started down the edge of the forest from the last spot he'd seen her, trying to locate someone in the forest. He paused a moment when he heard a long howl in the distance and he blanched. "Tonks," he said quickly. "Go get Hagrid, and tell him that your sister's in the forest and that she might have been... taken."

Tonks was standing stock still, as if nothing worked until Bill shook her and repeated the words. "Go now!" he added hurried, "I'll try and find her."

There was no one to find even after a search was mounted.

Astraea was deep in the forest, miles away from the search. Once they'd gone deeper into the forest, and Gwyl was content, he called to Silver, having her carry Astraea as they moved further and further into the forest. Even as the search progressed into the night, they moved farther until they were so deep that only the most resourceful and strong wizards would dare to follow.

It was a lot further than Gwyl had realized, and once they'd come to the home he'd left behind, he was tired as was Astraea, she fell asleep when he laid her in the furs he'd slept in before, and then Gwyl went to go find food. The pack was near and the hunt had gone well, so Gwyl didn't have to go far. In fact they were awaiting him, and Ink pounced upon him once he'd come to eat.

After Silver and Dog had eaten their share, Gwyl cut a large chunk away from the leg of the deer and went back to the camp where the girl lay. He'd heard her called Stray and Astraea but found that it was much easier to pronounce the first one, so he was content to call her that.

As the night progressed, Gwyl listened to the night. Birds flew from everywhere, but never quite finding their way into the clearing. He wasn't sure why they had come, it was strange that so many owls would appear, but none of them bothered him, and he let them go on their way, he was already full from the previous meal.

When morning came again, Gwyl was only half awake, but Silver nudged him as the girl awoke. She looked around for a minute blankly, unsure where she was, until she saw Gwyl's eyes peering out behind a thick layer of dirt. "Harry!" she said excitedly, not having had the time the night before to greet him properly.

He nodded and then shook his head. "My name is Gwyl now," he said proudly. "Gwyl, the Wolf-Demon. You are... Stray?"

Stray laughed and nodded. "My sister calls me Stray, and you can call me Stray too," she said happily. Then looking around she touched the fur blanket that was covering her. "Why do you live in the forest?"

"They always hurting me," Gwyl said, trying to push the memory of his relatives. "Everyone but you."

It seemed that Stray was always smiling now, but she smiled even broader when Gwyl said this. "We can play all the time!" she announced happily. "My mum always makes me come in before dark, but we can play as late as we want now."

Gwyl nodded vigorously and remembered what she'd liked to play, _magic_. He might be able to play magic now, he did have wand-sticks, but he had other things to do first. There was a little fire burning, not very far from them, and the piece of meat he'd requisitioned earlier was on a spit, keeping warm. "You want food?" Gwyl asked, pointing to the spit. Firenze ate food this way, and he had spoke before about how other people cooked their food. Gwyl didn't really like it cooked, it lost the flavor, but he was sure Stray would.

There was a roughly carved basket of nuts and another of berries, one's Gwyl had collected previously. Stray saw them and dropped the blanket that she had wrapped around her, eagerly taking several of the berries and swallowing them down almost without chewing at all. Some of the nuts followed, and then she took the spit from the fire and took a big chunk of the meet, eating it eagerly.

When she was finished she looked back to Gwyl. "You're not eating?" she asked curiously.

The whole breakfast thing was never much to Gwyl's liking, he liked to get worked up a little before eating, but right now he was much more interested in Stray. Silver yawned and then took a stroll around the clearing, checking it for possible visitors just beyond sight, then came back to Gwyl's side and laid down next to him. Dog wouldn't wake for a little while longer, not unless Gwyl called him; he was probably awake now, but too lazy to get up.

Still, Stray was staring at him intently, waiting for an answer. "I don't eat yet," he finally said. "What do you want to play today?"

Silver was staring at Stray, fascinated; she's studied her for most of the night while Gwyl was awake, as if she knew her.

"What's her name?" Stray asked, pointing to Silver. Gwyl told her and watched amazed as Stray called her by her name, and Silver answered by standing and coming over to her with her head bowed in a semi-submissive pose. Gwyl didn't understand it at all, the first time _he_ had met Silver she'd almost taken off his head when he broke eye contact.

"She's from the zoo, isn't she?" Stray asked, stroking her hand across Silvers back several times. It reminded Gwyl of something he'd seen someone do a long time ago, but it was too far buried in his memory and he just ignored it. Silver seemed to like it though, and Gwyl thought it must be some sort of human-dog ritual since Silver wasn't treating Stray like a member of the pack yet. Gwyl did hope to change that though; she could stop being human if she wanted it enough.

While Stray was rubbing Silver, Gwyl moved over to a small path of dirt that was only semi-packed, and he dug into it, pulling two of the wand-sticks from the hole and then pushing the dirt back over it. Stray would want to play magic, and Gwyl suspected that the little wand-sticks had something to do with magic.

After Stray was done, and Silver looked extremely content, Gwyl moved forward, producing the wand-stick and offering one to stray. "Do you want to play now?" he asked quickly.

Stray took the wand and nodded. "Where did you get these?" she asked looking around, Gwyl had extracted them quick enough that she hadn't even noticed. She shrugged it off like Gwyl did for most things he didn't understand. "Mum would never let me play with her wand. Do you want to try spells?"

Gwyl shrugged, he didn't care, he was completely content now that Stray was here, he didn't care about the rest of the world. And, as long as the humans didn't wander too far into the forest, he didn't care about them either.

"What spells?" Gwyl asked, waving his wand like the other humans had when they'd used them. He remembered some of the words vividly still.

"My mum's always using spells and so is my dad. He taught me some too, but he never taught me the one's that he used most. I used to watch him use them, but he wouldn't let me do the spells."

"He's not here. We do them now?" Gwyl asked, almost timidly, not sure exactly how to broach their friendship again. He hadn't spoken to another human in two years save a few words to the invaders.

It took Stray a few minutes to finally nod; it looked as if she were trying to work up the courage to do the magic she wanted. But she did nod, and she held up the wand-stick in her hand and then touched her forehead. "This is what my sister taught me," she said and she closed her eyes as she spoke concentrating. "I can't do it without a wand yet, but she said someday I'd be able to."

The silver hair that Gwyl had identified her by seemed to disappear with a ripple, it seems like a black wave traveled down it until everything but the very tips were completely black. "It's like yours," she said happily. "I can do it all sorts of colors, other things too..." There was a short pause and she closed her eyes again and when she opened them the vivid blue they had been was now greener than Gwyl had ever seen, except when he saw his own eyes in the water before he drank.

Smiling brightly Gwyl did a flip in mid-air. It was amazing that magic did that to her, and he wondered what else magic could do. "More!" he exclaimed excitedly, holding up his wand and wondering how to make it work. Stray _had_ whispered words, but he'd tried that before and it only made colors for him.

"Alright," Stray said. "There's lighting spells..." she held up her wand in the air and the tip suddenly burst into a brilliant white light then went away. "...and flying spells..." she paused and looked around, her eyes finally laying to rest on a rock that was sitting on a wooden stump. She whispered another word, this one much louder, and Gwyl watched the rock start to rise off the ground. It didn't get very far before falling again, but it was enough to make Gwyl gasp. "I'm not very good at most spells," Stray said, "I only just learned some when no one's around. Mum tells me I'm going to get into trouble, so I don't tell her."

Several minute passed as Gwyl watched the wonders of magic. Heat and cold burst from the wand, ice and water, she even made flowers that were almost dead come back to life - Gwyl liked that spell because she said it would help plants grow better. Then she started harder spells, stuff she said she never practiced because her dad would get mad. Gwyl was trying to do some of them too.

"See you hold the wand up like this," stray was telling him, "then you point it and say _obliviate._"

Trying several times Gwyl almost felt like he was left out when Stray explained. "It's suppose to work on people," she said. "You have to point it at me and say it if you want it to work."

Before she said anything else Gwyl turned around and waved his wand at her, saying it loudly because he had to, as Stray explained. The oddest look passed over her and she didn't speak for a minute. Gwyl wondered if it had worked, and then wondered what it was supposed to do, Stray hadn't mentioned that at all.

"Who are you?" Stray asked suddenly and Gwyl stared at her, confused.

"Where's mum?" she asked looking around even more confused. Gwyl felt unhappy; the spell had made her forget who he was. He waved his wand quickly again, saying the words even louder, hoping to take back what he'd just done.

Stray paused again and her face blanked out for several minutes. Gwyl waited patiently until she looked around again. "Where are we?" she asked as she stared around. "and who are you?" she asked, looking even more confused. "Who am _I?_" she added with just as much curiosity.

Jumping forward Gwyl quickly took the wand from her hand; he didn't like them now, not at all, not if they made things like this happen. He was worried she wouldn't like him now that he'd made her forget. "Who am I?" she repeated again looking at her hands and then to Gwyl. "And who are you? What are we doing here?"

"You Stray," Gwyl said tentatively, hoping she wouldn't be mad with him. "I Gwyl, the Wolf-Demon."

"Wolf-Demon?" she asked curiously. "What is that?"

Silver stood up and yawned again, moving over to Stray, looking for more affection. Stray just looked at her oddly. "Is she a friend of yours?" she asked staring at the wolf.

"She your friend too," Gwyl pointed out hoping, she might remember and everything would be alright. "She is named Silver." Dog came trotting out of the shelter and Gwyl pointed to him. "He is Dog, they are... pack, like me."

"Am I pack?" Stray asked looking around again.

A sense of wonderment passed over Gwyl, she had forgotten everything and she wasn't mad at him. It wasn't bad, she could be his friend still! She wouldn't even remember she was human, so she could be pack too. He nodded vigorously. "We is different from them, but we still pack. You are new member," he added hastily, hoping that the other wolves would accept her. He was going to have to help her become a better wolf if she was going to be a pack member, and he set about teaching her immediately.

•


	12. Whisper of the Trees

Chapter 12

• Whisper of the Trees •

For a long time, Gwyl made Stray hide in the clearing because when he let her out the next day birds came from all around pestering them. It scared Gwyl that they were trying to fly away with her, there were certainly enough of them. Gwyl pulled her away from them and took her back into the clearing again, and they all got confused and couldn't find her. Determined to make sure that they couldn't steal her, Gwyl only went out by himself and made Silver stand guard to keep people from coming in or Stray from leaving. She certainly didn't want to leave either, the birds frightened her a lot, but she was still curious about the outside.

It was almost a week after Stray had first come with him that Gwyl found a human who had wandered too far into the forest. He was an older human, his hair was getting gray, but not real silver like Stray's had been. He was alone except for a dog, who was sniffing the ground and leading the man.

Gwyl didn't like the man or what the dog was doing, so he moved away from them and sent up a warning howl. The response was immediate, the wolves howled back, and Gwyl returned to find the stranger looking around in desperation, trying to determine exactly where the howls were coming from. The wolves were split though, and their howls were coming from multiple directions, so the man didn't seem to know what to do.

Finally, the man said something to the dog, and the dog bowed, cautiously, and started sniffing the ground again. Gwyl growled from above because he knew what the man was trying to do. He was trying to find Stray and take her away.

Dropping to the ground, he darted forward and howled at the dog, who whimpered and turned away, disappearing back into the forest, headed towards the town that was where they had likely come from. "Please," the man begged as Gwyl approached him, "she's my daughter, please bring her back to me."

Something about the way he was begging reminded him of a memory he'd lost a long time ago, and he paused as he heard a woman's voice begging in the background. It scared him, and he backed away, not wanting to hear it again. The woman said his name, and her voice seemed so familiar to him, but he shook his head and backed away a few more steps.

The man had a wand-stick out when Gwyl was focused again, and he was pointing it at Gwyl. "You tell me where she is, you tell me now!" he demanded. His voice no longer sounded like the distant voice he'd heard in his head, but it did sound like another familiar voice, one that he'd forgotten until that moment. Vernon Dursley was in front of him again, snarling, trying to take away something of his.

Gwyl snarled and leapt forward, only to find himself hanging in mid-air. When he fell a few seconds later, he scrambled away from the wand-stick, trying to avoid the magic it made.

"She die," he said from behind a tree, trying to make the man go away.

The man howled with some sort of hate and ran towards the tree that Gwyl was climbing. Some of the pack appeared though, and he was forced to back away with his wand-stick held out towards them.

Once Gwyl was up above the man and recovered from the surprise of being stuck in the air without anything to grab, he growled orders to the wolves. "Leave," he told the man angrily. "You die too," he added when the man didn't seem to want to leave. "Pack not like strangers. Forest not for man, leave. Not come back."

It seemed impossible to get the man to leave until the rest of the pack showed up. It seemed that, while he'd try to deal with a dozen wolves, he wasn't about to deal with forty of them.

At the clearing, Stray was waiting anxiously for Gwyl, who was far later than usual. He first offered her some food, meet from a kill he'd helped the wolves catch, and then he told her about the man who'd come too far into the forest. He didn't mention the man had said Stray was his daughter though, he just told her that he'd made him go away. Humans weren't supposed to be in the forest, she knew that, and she wondered why he was there. Gwyl told her he was trying to steal from the forest, and that seemed good enough for her.

That night, as Stray slept cuddled up to Gwyl, he felt frightened of losing her. When he finally did fall asleep, he remembered things from before, and he imagined having to be taken back to the humans he had lived with. He awoke in a cold sweat, holding Stray as if someone was trying to pull her away from him. She didn't wake at all, but Gwyl stayed up the rest of the night, frightened of his dreams, as he hadn't been since he first came into the forest. He'd almost forgotten what true fear was until the man had come.

Gwyl determined then if the man came again, he wouldn't leave; no one was going to take Stray away from him. No one was going to make him be human again.

More humans came into the forest, but Gwyl did not see them, the spiders did and told him. They seemed to be enjoying it because a few of the humans wandered too close to their lair and were taken. When Gwyl finally did go and check to see if humans were coming, he found the forest as empty of humans as before. Stray was even able to go out without the birds finding her. The birds still came around though, big ones and usually at night, but they always kept going past Gwyl and Stray without even going down to peck at them.

To Gwyl it was a good sign; he thought that maybe they had forgotten about her. After all, humans didn't care for people long, especially in his case. Humans always hurt other humans, and he wanted to make sure Stray was never hurt by any of them.

Still, for several more weeks she stayed in the clearing learning about the forest and the pack. Gwyl took her out in the forest occasionally to show her how things worked, and was always keeping Dog or Silver out making sure no one got near them. Gwyl didn't dare take Stray close enough to the village to see other humans because he feared that she might remember the things and leave him to go back.

Eventually he'd let her do whatever she wanted, but not until he'd taught her about the forest, and she was turned to pack. That was going to take a lot of time, and Gwyl knew it, but he didn't mind, he was happy. She was making tremendous progress though, much faster than Gwyl had when he'd first come. She couldn't move through the trees with whisper-like ease as Gwyl could, but she could was beginning to get much better at it. Her hands seemed to adapt to it too, which Gwyl found quite odd. The hands that had been smaller than his lengthened out more, and she seemed to have a different sort of balance than she had first displayed. He didn't feel bothered with it though, it only made it easier for her to learn.

Silver growled below them, and Gwyl stopped immediately, turning to see who was coming. He didn't expect anyone to come around, especially so far out in the forest.

There was a slight trot that Gwyl could hear in a moment, and he held out his hand to Stray. "Listen," he whispered, hoping she would hear it. Her hearing was something that had developed fastest, and he was happy about that too because it meant she had more time to hide when danger came around.

"Horses?" she asked, with a whisper, and Gwyl shook his head, the horses that were in the forest didn't come around very much, and they were swift and silent most of the time. In fact, Gwyl wasn't sure, but he didn't think they were horses at all. He thought that they were something that Stray had once shown him a long time ago, when they'd played in the dark.

"Centaur," Gwyl responded after he'd listened for a few moments longer. He wasn't sure who it was though. It wasn't Firenze, he was sure of that. Firenze had a certain oddity in his step that Gwyl had noticed ages ago. No, whoever it was wasn't good at trying to hide their presence either.

It took a few minutes before Gwyl saw who had come, and it surprised him a little. Dia was marching purposefully in their direction even though she didn't seem to know where it was she was going. Silver straightened, she hadn't known it was Dia until she was in view; the wind was blowing the other direction.

When Dia saw Silver, she was a little surprised, but looked around and continued forward until she was standing next to Silver. "Gwyl?" she called out looking around again.

Gwyl sighed and dropped from the tree above, landing deftly next to the little centaur. "Hello," he said giving her a smile. He was more interested in getting her to leave at the moment so he could teach Stray more about being pack, but Stray seemed to want to meet the centaur, and she slid down the trunk of the tree and stood next to Gwyl smiling as well.

Dia wasn't ready for Stray and took a few startled steps back. "Who is she?" Dia asked when she'd calmed a moment later.

"Stray," Gwyl said quickly, "she pack too. She is friend of Gwyl."

"Oh, well then hello. My name is Dia," she said, bowing slightly to Stray. "It is nice to meet a friend of Gwyl's. But I didn't know there were anymore Wolf-Demons in the forest."

"Not Wolf-Demon yet," Gwyl said with a smile. "Still teaching," he added happily.

Stray nodded, but was very quiet. She didn't know anything other than Gwyl and she was a little frightened of this Dia, Gwyl could feel it. "Dia friend too," Gwyl said, trying to make Stray feel a less shy. "She play games too!" he exclaimed, remembering that she'd been throwing knives and had a sling.

When Gwyl announced this, Stray brightened up a little. "Really?" she asked still a little shy about it. "Gwyl says I am really good at whip, but I am still learning knives."

"A whip?" asked Dia, and Stray produced the whip that Firenze had given Gwyl. It was strapped to her back using some of the clothing that Gwyl had torn up. Stray wore more than he did – but only because she hadn't gotten used to the temperature changes yet. Her clothing had been changed a bit though. Gwyl had made it more accessible and easier to move in so that she did not become tangled when they were in the trees.

"I brought some throwing dirks... knives," Dia said, pulling off a belt that had been thrown over her shoulder. "So that we could practice, and maybe so that you could keep them for me, they keep getting taken away when I try and hide them."

Stray watched, fascinated, as Dia pulled a knife from the sheaths that lined the belt and held it out to Gwyl to inspect. "They're old ones, but they still have good balance." Dia said as she let Gwyl examine it. "I brought something else for you too," she added and produced a sling that was almost exactly the same as the one Firenze had given him except it had a painting on it, a crude wolf that was all black but there were two green dots for the eyes.

"It's you," she explained, "Shepaud says it's your animal form."

Gwyl wasn't sure he actually looked so similar to a wolf; it would mean he couldn't move through the trees quite so easily, but he took it all the same. His other sling was still lost and he suspected one of the humans had found it and already taken it. Now he had another one and he could teach Stray how to use it properly. She was already learning quickly, and she seemed to have a knack for the whip that Gwyl couldn't quite figure out. All Gwyl had to do now was get her a knife of her own. Firenze would help him when he got back, Gwyl was sure of it.

"Firenze return?" Gwyl asked as he let Stray examine the sling.

Unfortunately, he hadn't, and Gwyl frowned when Dia shook her head. Firenze had been gone for a long time, and the centaurs said they would bring him back. How far had he gone? Gwyl wondered, but there was no answer.

"We play now," Gwyl said confidently. "Dia, we teach Stray how to play?"

Dia seemed to take to the idea quite well and fully understood what Gwyl was asking. "How much does she know?" she asked Gwyl as Stray uncoiled the whip carefully.

"Good at whip," Gwyl said, "much better than Gwyl. No sling to teach, but knives alright. Want her to learn fast, she new."

"New?" asked Dia, staring as Stray did some odd stretching with her hands. Gwyl just ignored the stretching; she always did it even though he didn't know why.

The thought of explaining her without giving away where she'd come from hadn't occurred to Gwyl and he paused for a minute. "Stray like Gwyl," he said, completely unable to come up with anything. He wasn't creative, he was direct, and though he wanted to avoid talking about where she had come from he didn't know what to say.

Somehow, the explanation seemed enough for Dia. She actually nodded sullenly, and then pulled another sling out. "We can teach her to play then." Dia said happily. "Can she be my friend too?"

Gwyl looked from Stray to Dia and then shrugged, "If she want. Stray want to be friends with Dia?" he asked as he looked to Stray.

Stray didn't even miss a beat, she was shy, but she still saw that Dia could be a good friend, and besides, she was friends with Gwyl and Silver, and to Stray that meant a lot. Nodding, she stepped forward with a smile, "we can be friends," she said happily.

Dia seemed to notice the difference in speech, but didn't mention it at all.

For months, there was nothing but playing. Gwyl did it because he wanted Stray to be an animal not like the humans. When she would do something wrong, he would just tell her it was how humans did it. After a while, she started to understand it was a sort of insult, and so she would avoid doing things like humans.

When Dia was helping Stray play, Gwyl would often disappear and go catch food. He missed hunting and did it as often as possible, but he knew that he had to wait and he was patient. Ink was always skulking around when Gwyl was unable to hunt for himself, bringing food. Dog stayed around Gwyl most of the time, but Silver disappeared at sporadic times for hours at a time.

In the mornings when they would run, Gwyl found himself beginning to feel the forest again. At first, when Stray had been around him, it was as if the feeling had been missing. He'd missed it, of course, and wondered if it was because of Stray that the forest didn't speak with him, but he wanted her more than the feeling of the forest. Now it was coming back, and Gwyl was overjoyed.

"Is like whispers in head," Gwyl explained one morning as they sat high in the trees. He held Stray's hand to the tree and closed his eyes. "Says things when listen." He shuddered as a happy feeling spread over him; the tree was content.

It took weeks and weeks of explaining before Stray seemed to feel it to, but she did. "It's sad!" she said one morning as Gwyl pressed her hand against the tree. Harry nodded; he'd picked this particular tree because he knew it had strong feeling it put off.

"Dying." Harry answered back to her. It was one of the trees that seemed to barely survive. He couldn't discover why but it was slowly dwindling away. "Likes when we touch it," he added.

Stray nodded and listened for a few minutes longer until it was time to leave. She whispered goodbye to the tree before they moved on. Gwyl didn't really understand why, the trees couldn't understand her but he just ignored it as one of Stray's quirks. She had many little oddities – like the way her ears had grown taller before she could hear well.

Dia was waiting for them where she usually was. Gwyl was happy she'd been able to come out today and wondered if Shepaud was watching. He was in charge of Dia because Dia's father had gone to find Firenze. Since Dia was here, Gwyl was almost certain that Firenze was still gone, and he was slightly saddened; it had been a long time.

"Shepaud has found something for Stray," Dia announced as Gwyl and Stray dropped into the middle of the clearing next to her. Dog and Silver entered soon after, having had trouble keeping up with the two. Stray could run through the trees now, but still wasn't good on the ground yet. Silver carried her when they had to go fast.

Smiling, Dia handed Stray an odd-looking thing. It had three leather straps attached in the middle and on the end of each of the straps was a small dark ball. "Shepaud isn't sure what it's called, but he knows how it's used. He showed me," Dia said as she took the thing from Stray again. "Watch how."

The leather straps swung around in the air a few times, and then released. Instead of the sling, which only one end was let go, the whole thing went flying through the air, hitting a branch not far away with a loud thunk. Gwyl thought it was a strange weapon, until Dia apologized, retrieving it explaining she hadn't gotten it right. It took Dia six tries to get it right, and Gwyl was even more confused when the leather wrapped around the limb it had struck.

It didn't matter to Stray; she liked it. Still, Dia explained. "It's for hunting, for making the kill fall. If you throw it right it will wrap around their legs and trip them."

Gwyl perked up; it was more interesting now. There were sometimes he wished he could make something he was hunting quit running. Both Gwyl and Stray practiced with it for the rest of the day, but it was Strays and she tucked it into her belt when they left Dia to go home.

On their way, Gwyl smelled the great cats nearby and so did Stray; she just didn't know who they were. She had met some of the animals, like the wolves, though not formally yet. But the cats had kept hidden away since she'd come to the forest. Gwyl wondered where they'd been and decided to introduce Stray.

With a quick bark, Gwyl turned sharply, and Stray followed. She knew the basics of the speech Gwyl used most of the time and she was getting the hang of commanding Silver and Dog around, though she still wasn't persistent enough, and they only did it because of the friendship they'd grown to have. Gwyl knew she'd have to prove herself dominant before they would listen without question.

The great cats were slinking through the trees lazily, and Gwyl could smell blood on them, they'd fed recently. They stopped when they heard Gwyl behind them and both turned to him. Stray gasped behind him, and he could hear her say a word. Leopards.

So that was what they were called. Gwyl knew that Stray remembered things from before, and he just assumed that since she'd been to the zoo she knew what the cats where. "They friends," Gwyl said calmly as he approached slowly. A third leopard appeared from beyond and Gwyl blinked, he didn't remember a third following him. There had been five that he'd let go, but only two who'd followed. Still it was quite a surprise to see another.

The closest cat made a deep clicking sound in its throat and walked forward to Gwyl. Once it had sniffed his hand, it rubbed up against him and the other two cats moved forward. Stray stayed in the background until Gwyl held out his hand to her. The cat smelled her, and purred then curled up next to her on the branch. "See, not pack, but friend. Like spiders, not always good, but good to Gwyl and pack."

That was all Stray needed to know. She was smiling and stroking the cats while they purred furiously. The third cat was a bit more cautious, but seemed to recognize Gwyl's scent, and licked his hand playfully. "Where do they live?" Stray asked when she'd befriended all of them.

Gwyl shrugged. They moved all over the forest; he wasn't even sure if they had a home. When Gwyl and Stay moved towards the shelter, the leopards followed lazily. Gwyl wondered if they'd follow the whole way, and waited for them once they'd dropped into their clearing. It took a while but the cats did follow, though for some reason they stayed at the edge. It was Stray who figured out why. "Can they come in?" she asked, "Maybe they are waiting for permission." she said when she noticed Gwyl was watching them.

"They can come," Gwyl replied and almost instantly, one of them jumped down from the tree into the clearing. The other two followed, they paced the clearing, and then found the shelter. After they'd examined it, they found a place in a short tree at the edge of the clearing and then curled up, falling asleep. Their presence disturbed Gwyl for a while, he was only used to the pack and Stray, but after a day or two of them moving in and out, and he got used to it. He even wondered if he should name them, but he wanted to wait, they where guests at the moment, but if they became residents, he'd name them or have Stray do it.

The leopards were soon as much a part of the clearing as the two wolves. Stray found them fascinating, and would often try to talk to them, fairly unsuccessfully. Gwyl knew a few words, commands, but nothing more. The summer drifted away into autumn, and the forest began to cool.

Gwyl found it even colder than normal and began wearing his cloak again with the white belt around the outside. It was beat up and holes, but it was warmer than wearing nothing. Stray wore the cloak she'd come into the forest wearing, but after the months of playing and changing it didn't fit right and she had to cut it up so that it would stay on and she could be comfortable in it. Gwyl showed her the extraordinary little potatoes – which she called gnomes – and how to use them to patch the cloaks up. She didn't seem to like the taste as much as she liked most of the other food, but she ate it; she ate anything that Gwyl offered her. He had also weaned her off the cooked food without telling her and now she too ate her meat raw and agreed with Gwyl – it was much better before it was heated.

Shepaud came around occasionally, along with Dia. Stray met him happily once Silver told her it was alright. He also brought presents. "It's a knife and belt sheath," Shepaud said one afternoon when he met the pair. Dia wasn't present which was rather unexpected, but she didn't always come. "I added a small leather strap to hold your whip," then he proceeded to show her how to attach the whip to the belt instead of putting it over her shoulder. It stuck out a little, but she liked it anyway.

There was also a place to put her other weapon which Gwyl and Stray had taken to calling 'the wrap' because of the way it was used. It was a small pouch that was designed specifically for the wrap. Stray carefully strapped it around her waist and added the wrap to the assembly. The knife wasn't white like Gwyl's, but it was beautifully made and Gwyl liked it as much as Stray did.

"It fits," Stray said triumphantly as she cinched the belt closed. "Of course," Shepaud said bowing slightly. "The centaurs know much about leather craft. It is a gift to the mate of Gwyl."

"Mate?" asked Gwyl, the word meant something to him, something he'd forgotten but it came back. Friend, it meant friend. Shepaud was right, Stray was his friend, and he nodded proudly.

"Will be pack too," he said, just as proud at how much she'd changed since she first came to the forest.

•


	13. Stolen

Chapter 13

• Stolen •

When the leopards were finally named, Stray wanted to do it with a sort of ceremony. Gwyl didn't mind in the least.

They set it up just as Stray wanted, though Gwyl had no idea why. They found poles that were long and straight and put them in the ground in two straight lines, and then made rough seats, which were positioned at the front of the lines of poles. Dog and Silver stood on either side of the seats, Dog on Gwyl's left, and Silver on Stray's right. It took a great deal of coaxing to get the leopards to actually stay in one spot until Stray sat down, but eventually they did.

They began walking forward even before she spoke, but she said it anyway, as if she were their dominant. "Come," she announced to the forest. Gwyl thought it was funny because no one was there, and he stifled a laugh but was otherwise quiet.

All three of them came forward lazily, and then laid down in front of the seats. Stray stood up and unsheathed her knife slowly and cautiously. She touched each of their shoulders one at a time and then named them. "I hear by name you Lancelot, Guinevere and Galahad," she said with the best air of authority she had.

Gwyl snickered, and the leopards yawned. "It is done," Stray said and sat back down, finally laughing happily.

The only ceremony Gwyl knew was the pack ceremonies, and he wondered where Stray knew hers from, but he didn't ask because he didn't want to bring back any memories. It was fun though, playing, they did it all the time because that's all Gwyl understood. Some of the games however were a little more traditional than learning weapons.

In fact, the most useful game Gwyl played was a strange version of hide-and-seek. It was a tracking game at first, teaching Stray to learn to track Gwyl.. He'd tell her to wait, and then disappear, and once he'd gotten far enough away he'd howl for her and then find a spot to hide.

Now, months after she'd come to the forest, the game had evolved because she was quite a bit better at tracking. Instead of just giving her any clues to where he was going, Gwyl would just disappear into the trees as they ran. It kept Stray on her toes as well, because when he did this, the quicker she noticed the easier it was to track him. Before, he'd left subtle clues but he no longer did. In fact, though often times he would double back and hide, it also became as much a chasing game as a hiding one.

While Gwyl still had the superior abilities to move through the trees unfettered by anything, Stray was getting much better at it and often times could actually keep up.

They explored the forest little by little and while they rested, Gwyl would tell her of his time alone in the forest. About the giant spiders who could be considered friends, but were enemies as well. He told her about finding Dog and then about hunting with the wolves. He even told her about the outside world, and the things he'd seen while watching the Zoo. Of course he left out that he'd seen her there too, because he didn't want her to wonder why she wasn't there anymore. Someday he would, but at the moment there was a voice inside telling him the time wasn't right.

The humans seemed to fascinate Stray a little more than Gwyl hoped they would, and so he also spent time telling her of the things that they'd done in the forest. He showed her the trees that had been broken and were dead. He repeated the encounters he'd had with them numerous times and recounted the stories Firenze had told him, though not nearly as well and always making the humans out to be quiet, but also vicious. It wasn't hard, really the centaur's stories always made the human out to be the bad person, and Gwyl didn't disapprove.

The fall came, and the pups who'd been born during the spring were old enough now to be inducted into the pack officially. To Gwyl, it was a good thing, he had a pup of his own, and he pushed more and more information into Stray as the days got colder. When the night came, Gwyl knew it without anyone telling him, as if a part of him whispered it into his mind. Silver and Dog knew it too of course, and Gwyl took Stray's hand and pulled her behind him only long enough for her to begin following. Stray was elated when they approached the pack, Ink standing rigid in the night air while the other wolves seemed to cower before him.

Silver took Stray's side as they approached the pack while Dog took Gwyl's. They approached the pack slowly and smartly, keeping to all fours and making sure that the pack saw them. Gwyl did this for many reasons, he knew he was dominant and none of the pack would challenge him save Ink, as was Silver. Dog's dominance was only present because Gwyl demanded it. He was strong, but he rarely played at it even when they were with the pack.

They stopped in the midst of the pack, bowing their heads just slightly to acknowledge Ink and then waiting. Stray knew all about what she needed to do and did not falter at all. Ink looked upon Stray, and then moved to Gwyl, saying hello with a light nuzzle. Gwyl returned the welcome, and then crawled backwards a few steps, allowing Stray to be in front.

Ink understood the gesture and stepped back a little to look over Stray. To him, she wasn't much different from Gwyl in looks, and they even smelled the same. She was pack, he knew it the moment he saw her, but it was a custom for each new member to be introduced by another pack member. Sniffing again, Ink stepped forward and growled softly at Stray but was not angered he waited. A soft growl was returned, and he sniffed her again, and then nuzzled her cheek.

The whole custom had been shown to her by Gwyl, and it didn't seem strange to her. The moment Ink had nuzzled her, the fear she'd had caved in, and she nuzzled back willingly, happy to be accepted. The rest of the pack came at Inks commanding bark and smelled their new pack member so that they would remember her.

Stray was extremely happy that everything had gone well, and it wasn't long before she was rolling around with the new pups on the ground. There were a few barks of concern from the mothers, but it was only a half-concern as they watched the pups. Even though she was new to pack, she seemed at home with them, which made the mother wolves comfortable with her.

Two sets of eyes appeared from above, and Gwyl blinked when he realized that the cats where present. He snarled, and they dropped from the tree almost instantly. What was the most surprising was the way the pack barely reacted; it was as if they'd been around the great cats a long time now.

The three, all of which Gwyl had left in the clearing, approached slowly and never once acting as enemies. They found a spot in front of Gwyl and laid down, wanting to be a part of the proceedings. Stray smiled and moved to them, bringing some of the newer pups forward to introduce them. She spoke, though none of the pack understood, introducing the leopards one by one.

Above, Gwyl could hear chattering, and he looked up to find the brown furry creatures with long tails above them. This surprised him more than the leopards coming to the ceremony, and he paused to look up at them. There wasn't one or two either, there were dozens and dozens of them. Until that moment, he hadn't seen a single one of them in the forest; he'd assumed that they hadn't come at all. When he'd first let them loose, they had refused entry into the forest, but tonight they were there among the trees. "Monkeys," Stray said beside Gwyl.

"But they don't live here..." she said getting slightly confused and screwing up her face in thought. Gwyl didn't like her trying to think, it meant she might remember, and he still didn't want her to remember, not yet.

"From zoo," he said quickly to alleviate any immediate curiosity. "Remember Gwyl letting them go, celebrate new pack members too. They friends because Gwyl free them."

"Food?" asked Stray innocently enough, and Gwyl shook his head, he wouldn't hunt them, but he wasn't going to tell the pack that. If the moneys wanted to stay alive, they had better stay in the trees. Still, he didn't want Stray to hunt them so he would tell her no. She understood when he shook his head and nodded slightly to him. They had many forms of communication, not just human words or pack.

"Monkeys new here. Not understand forest rules, they know human forest," he pointed out. "When they used to forest maybe be food and hunters too." He looked up to the monkeys again, remembering that they seemed to be extremely harmless, and he doubted that they would become hunters, but one never knew.

One of the monkeys, seeing Gwyl's look as some sort of signal, dropped down branch by branch, eventually perching on Gwyl's shoulder just as one of them had done when Gwyl helped them escape. It was curious to Gwyl why the animals had come, if these animals decided to come into the forest, Gwyl wondered what else had come, the monkeys and leopards weren't the only thing he'd let out.

The monkey on his shoulder chattered and pointed off in a direction. Then it calmed down and seemed to feel as at home on his shoulder as it felt in the trees. Gwyl wasn't sure what to make of it, he had let the monkeys go free, but he didn't expect their friendship at all, nor did he expect to have any of the other animal's friendship. It didn't matter, and he ignored the monkey for the time being.

"Come Stray," he said, and when she did he took her hand and held it out for the monkey to smell, showing the thing that she was a friend too. It sniffed her hand, pawing over it with its tiny hands, but then finding nothing interesting, resumed sitting on Gwyl's shoulder.

One of the leopards yawned and stretched out next to Gwyl as a breeze blew past. The smell reminded Gwyl of... humans, and he turned quickly to see where it had come from.

"Stay with pack," he commanded Stray, and then barked at Ink as he rushed through the forest followed by Silver and Dog. The monkey that had been sitting on his shoulder squeaked and kept a tight grip until Gwyl ascended into the trees. Then it took to following him instead of staying on his shoulder. Gwyl could hear some of the other monkeys behind him, but he ignored them. The smell was too close for comfort.

It took several minutes at full sprint to find the human he smelled, and he slowed as he neared the location. He approached cautiously, keeping downwind from the intruder. Very rarely did someone ever come so far into the forest.. The monkeys who'd followed him took their time approaching as well, finding that it was best to keep quiet. Even the one of the leopards, Lancelot, had followed him and stood in the next tree, waiting for Gwyl.

No wolves came, they had stayed with Stray because he'd commanded it. He wanted Stray safe, and he'd asked for Ink to keep her safe. There was a slight scuttling sound, and Gwyl could see that there were two spiders slightly larger than puppies that were in the same tree as him. "Tell family that I will drive off humans," Gwyl whispered to them. There was only one of them; he could handle it easy enough.

The little spiders scurried away, and Gwyl peaked around the tree. A long man was standing in the clearing, staring in the opposite direction. He wasn't focused on where he looked though, Gwyl was sure that the man knew he was there. There was something wrong though, something that made Gwyl stop to think twice about just slaying the man and getting things over with. This man smelled of pack, it was an old smell, but it was his smell and not from being near other pack members.

The man turned sharply, and his eyes were staring at the location where Gwyl was hiding in the trees. "Come out Wolf-Demon," he said calmly. "Hiding will do you no good around me."

Silver crashed through the bushes, and the man's focus slid away from Gwyl to the giant Silver wolf in front of him. She paused as well, confused, the smell of pack was strong enough that she didn't know if she should attack. Gwyl knew that it wouldn't stop her, there _were_ other packs, and he definitely wasn't in their pack, but it slowed her thinking enough that the man seemed to find her only slightly irritating. Gwyl stared as the man's eyes turned back up to him. His _eyes _were even pack, as if he'd mixed somehow.

The monkeys chattered in an undertone, and the one who seemed to like Gwyl took up a position on his shoulders again as Gwyl slunk around the backside of the tree. He waited for a minute, trying to think of how the man could be both pack and human but found no answer. He knew what he had to do, and he quickly slid down the back of the tree and dropped to the ground.

Lancelot followed silently like a shadow. Gwyl growled, and Silver stepped back away as Gwyl emerged from the shadows of the tree. Lancelot followed along with Dog.

The man had to blink before he was able to recover from the surprise that showed on his face. "They are leopards," he whispered in awe and continued staring. "I've never seen one in real life. It's amazing that they'll even listen to you, not very social animals normally."

The cat moved under Gwyl's hand as if defying the logic, and Gwyl stroke his back, squatting slightly in case he needed to move quickly. Silver stepped forward towards the man again, sniffing and then stepped back once more, finding her place on Gwyl's right.

"You are pack?" Gwyl asked, trying to satisfy his curiosity, "and you are human?" he continued, ignoring the man's astonishment altogether.

The wolf eyes looked up at him, slightly confused now. "Pack?" he asked.

"Wolf," Gwyl growled, angry that the man didn't understand. How could someone who was pack be so stupid? He barked at the man, showing he was dominant, but the man didn't respond at all as he should have. That made Gwyl even angrier, the man should submit or show he too was dominate.

"Ah, I think I understand," the man said slowly. "You can somehow sense I'm a werewolf."

"Werewolf?" Gwyl whispered, remembering that another human had mentioned werewolf before. It had been when he was protecting the wolf from the men who were hurting him. The wolf had disappeared before Gwyl had returned to the pack, and Gwyl wondered if this was that wolf somehow. He concentrated a minute, trying to remember what the men had named the werewolf before. "Travis?" he asked louder, hoping that that was the name that the other people had mentioned.

The man-wolf was surprised. "You know Travis?" he asked. "And how do you know Travis?"

"He is werewolf," Gwyl said matter-of-factly, but there was still a growl on the edge of his voice. He didn't like this man; he was too human and not enough wolf. Maybe he would kill him and get it over with, he was already sure the man wasn't going to leave.

"Yes, that's very true, but that doesn't tell me how the two of you met. He isn't one that goes parading about on full moons, he keeps to his cellar and is extremely careful about that. He doesn't want to turn anyone else."

"Turn?" Gwyl questioned. He didn't understand the word fully, but he had an idea of what it meant. Could other people be turned to wolves?

"Yes, he ran into a bit of trouble a few years back and was outside during the full moon. Turned a little girl over before he was driven out. He seriously regrets it, but he's come to terms with it."

"Turn wolf?" Gwyl asked, still trying to grasp the concept of how a human could turn someone else into a wolf. The brown haired man nodded. "How?" he demanded immediately.

"First tell me how you came to know him,"

"Men come and hurt. He pack, I help. Kill men."

This time the stranger wasn't as surprised, like something had suddenly made sense. "It was a werewolf then that those dimwits had captured. I'll have to take this to the court and let them know what was happening, it'll certainly be interesting..." he paused and looked at Gwyl. "I certainly owe you a debt of gratitude, but there is no way I can pay it. What you did was criminal, you can't just kill men."

"They hurt pack," Gwyl snarled at him, not caring what the man thought. It wasn't a _human _forest. "They come in forest. I warn not to, they come still. Kill now, no come back. Humans not welcome in forest."

"According to who?" the man asked, making Gwyl even more agitated. He was on the edge right now and was only holding back because the man still hadn't explained how he was pack and human, how to make man turn to wolf. Gwyl wanted to know how someone else had done it without being pack all the time. It angered him that someone could do such a thing.

"The forest," he snarled and turned to leave, he didn't want to deal with this man, but he couldn't hurt him until he knew what a werewolf was exactly and how come this man could be wolf and man at the same time.

"Wait," the man called out and Gwyl turned back. The man paused and looked startled that Gwyl had turned back. "You wanted to know how men turn to wolves, didn't you?" he asked quickly and Gwyl seemed to think he was trying to trick him, but he was still alone and in the middle of a clearing there was nothing he could do if Gwyl wanted to leave.

"I can't show you, only Alpha wolves can and I don't know any of them - they're very rare. I can tell you about it though if you'll tell me about the girl that went missing just over three months ago."

"No human girls in forest anymore," Gwyl snapped. "Humans die or leave."

"She's not dead, we're pretty sure about that. She's was here though, for a few months, she showed up a few times but disappeared just as quick. We know it was around here, and we wanted to know what happened to her," the man said asserting some dominance as if he'd already proved himself. Gwyl felt like showing him who was dominant and then trying to figure things out, but he waited. Humans were different, they were used to playing word games, and he knew that he wasn't good with them so he had to be careful.

Still, the man was playing a game that Gwyl didn't understand, and he didn't want to play a game he couldn't win, so he turned to leave. He might send the wolves after this man and then force him to talk about turning wolf, but he wouldn't kill him, at least not right away.

He didn't get far, the man produced a wand-stick inhumanly quick and had said a word even before Gwyl was completely turned away. Gwyl found himself floating in mid air for a second time in two months. He snarled loudly, thrashing about but not able to move anywhere. "It won't work," the newcomer said. "You're not leaving here until you answer some of my questions and promise to be a good boy."

"I _not_ boy," Gwyl snarled back, barking for Silver and Dogs help. Silver was already bouncing forward, but she too was suddenly floating in mid air only a few feet from Gwyl. Dog was more cautious and Gwyl snapped at him to stop when he started out of the shadows. Stopping for a moment to think he barked a command and the last he saw of Dog was the split tail heading back from where they'd come.

Lancelot was under him, but he didn't seem to be able to move at all. Not for lack of trying, Gwyl could see him stretching against the invisible bonds that held him.

"Go away," Gwyl growled angrily, trying his best to show his dominance, even positioned in mid air and barely able to move. "Take magic with you," he added angrily. He really, really didn't like magic.

"Oh? You know about magic do you?" the man asked as he approached Gwyl. "I wonder how _much_ you know about it. I mean, maybe you were the reason we couldn't locate her, the spells that are used are very difficult to do. I hear that you've been taking up a collection of wands, is that the reason, to find the one best suited for you? Or are you doing it for some other purpose?"

The man had stopped several steps away, and Gwyl fought the barrier again, trying to do more than float in mid-air. No one trapped him, and the man wouldn't live through the night if he didn't let him go soon. With a good deal of snarling and jerking the barrier loosened slightly and Gwyl was able to move freely though he was still stuck in the air, unable to grab anything. The man moved closer again, and Gwyl swiveled back to him, growling and baring his teeth waiting for the stupid man to take another step forward.

There was a blink and a look of shock as the man stumbled backwards like an oaf. Gwyl growled again, trying to reach through the barrier and grab the retreating man but unable to do so. The man stepped forward after a moment staring, unblinkingly up at Gwyl. He reached forward almost lovingly to touch Gwyl, and Gwyl snapped, almost taking off his hand. The bonds tightened around him, and the man reached up again, pushing away the dark locks of hair with the utmost care. "Harry?" the man asked, barely speaking above a whisper.

The human name that had once been his caused a sense of panic to run through him. Before he'd been angry, but now he was scared, scared of what this man and his magic might be able to do. The fact that this human knew him and his name was so mind shattering that he howled louder, and viciously jerked away from the touch. The force that had been holding him exploded around him, and Gwyl dropped to the ground as the man was blown back. He snarled at the man and then bolted through the trees, trying to leave the man behind him. He was running from the pack because he didn't want this man to find them, but he knew he should probably redirect himself back in that direction soon, he wouldn't be enough to fight this man and his magic.

Guinevere and Galahad appeared before him, and Gwyl felt stronger than he'd felt a few moments before and much more confidant. Above him, the monkeys began chattering furiously, and Gwyl looked around as he ran, but saw no one, then he was stopped dead in his tracks as if he'd run into a tree. He looked up and four people appeared out of thin air in front of him. He gasped and scrambled backwards then turned only to find that he couldn't go far, a wall had been erected around him, an invisible wall. He snarled and then jumped at a tree to climb over the invisible wall only to find himself being yanked out of the air and thrown to the ground.

Gwyl growled and then screamed loudly for the leopards, both of which launched themselves at the new hunters who'd appeared in front of them. Neither made it very far, the woman in the group raised her wand-stick, and the two leopards fell to the ground as if dead. Gwyl snarled at the woman, and tried to leap at her but got nothing more than a bruised face. The man, the old man of the group smiled softly as if there were nothing wrong, and then he spoke in an even softer tone. "You're only going to hurt yourself more the longer you fight Gwyl. The cage will get smaller and smaller until you quit fighting it, or it stops your movements completely. I hate to hurt anything that doesn't deserve it, but we must speak with you."

The fervor in which Gwyl attacked only increased, he didn't want to speak with humans; he didn't like them and didn't want to be around them. Another part of the problem was the redheaded boy who had been with Stray when he'd taken her away was there, looking useless and very surprised at Gwyl. Gwyl refused to give her back, she had more fun in the forest, and she didn't have to be like other humans. She was better now.

It took a full minute, but Gwyl soon found himself caught in an uncomfortable position, completely unable to move. He simply growled lightly because he couldn't open his mouth enough to bark or howl.

"Albus," the man who was pack said as he approached looking distraught. "It's Harry! Those eyes, the one's that you said were bothering you, they're Lily's eyes, I'm sure of it. I didn't see a scar, but it looks like he's so dirty that it's just been covered up."

Gwyl snarled as best as possible, but found it was rather difficult. Muffled whispers came from the other three humans, and he tried to twist and see who was talking but found he couldn't. Both Guinevere and Galahad where below him just behind him, and just as incapable of movement. The monkeys were above chattering, and Gwyl wished he could speak with them and tell them to take away the wand-sticks but he couldn't. He understood a few words, but it was a vague understanding of what he'd learned while watching them at the zoo. It didn't help at all now.

Calming finally, Gwyl closed his eyes and let out a whimper hoping that the pack would show up soon. Dog was surely running with everything he had, but it wasn't a short run either and he'd already run all the way here.

The humans talked between themselves for a minute again, and then started walking out of the forest. He thought it'd be a long walk but somehow it was almost as if the forest was moving slower around them as they walked, or maybe it was that they were moving faster, but what should have been over a full nights run was gone in a matter of an hour. He felt more and more hopeless as they neared the edge of the forest, and he tried to howl one last time but still barely got anything more than a choked whimper out.

The pack wasn't there though, and he knew it, they were following but far into the darkness. They didn't come in time, and he was pulled from the forest as the sun rose over the landscape just as easily as he'd ended up in it. More humans were waiting for him as they left the forest. His face hardened as he looked at his captors, they were all sorts of humans, women, men, old and young, and all of them would face his wrath if he got lose.

They pulled him up the slopes that led to the castle and inside, past gaping red-faced children and paintings that moved. The energy that he'd been using to fight them for the last two hours was gone, and all he could do was watch and listen to the whispers.

-

Meanwhile, it was Stray who was raging inside, so much so that she was barely able to contain it as Gwyl had taught her. The pack was sitting below her at the edge of the forest. She'd come as quickly as possible when Dog had come back with the message that Gwyl was in trouble. She absent-mindedly stroked the Leopard that was next to her in the tree and tried to decide what to do.

Gwyl had told her about people, about their anger and their magic. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but she had to go get him. They had taken the only thing she really knew away from her, and it made her angrier than she'd ever been. It wasn't hard to figure out where he'd gone, the humans were not good at covering their spore, and it was easy to follow their scent as well. All of them had gone to the castle that was above them, Gwyl with them.

Above, the monkeys chattered to her, and she slipped back into the shadows as a human walked along the edge of the forest.

Silver, who hadn't been injured at all, but also had only just caught up because she'd been unable to move, growled at the man but he didn't hear them at all, he was blind and deaf it seemed, so Stray ignored him. Maybe she would ask the spiders for help, Gwyl had told her about the spiders. Or Dia! She'd know what they could do, she knew a lot about the humans. Turning with a quick snap of a branch Stray bound back into the forest with the rest of the pack following her.

The man turned at the loud crack, but saw nothing and continued strolling along the edge of the forest as if nothing had happened.

•


	14. Romp Through the Castle

Chapter 14

• Romp •

"You are Harry Potter?" the old man who had captured Gwyl asked once they'd dragged him through a castle of dirty humans, made a statue move, climbed a moving stairwell and deposited him in the corner of a room. The walls which held him were also changed, keeping him secure but allowing him to move about a little more.

He shook his head repeatedly. He was Gwyl now; Harry Potter didn't exist anymore.

"How is it that you came so close to us, and we never knew?" the old human asked himself as he sat down in the chair. Gwyl could smell something odd about him, but it wasn't pack, it was ... something else, something he didn't know, but it was there.

There was a woman there also, who Gwyl recognized as being something else, the same way that the brown haired werewolf-man he'd met earlier was a wolf she was not only human. She had been with them since they'd come out of the forest but she was only now really looking at him. Before she'd been sending off the younger humans and telling them something about points.

Now her face was turning almost as red as blood and she turned to the old man after she'd looked Gwyl over for a long time. "Really Albus," she said still flushed. "Why don't we find him some sort of clothing. We can't let him run around wearing nothing."

The old man, Albus, smiled and Gwyl growled at the thought of making him wear clothing. He wasn't human, it wasn't cold either, there was no reason for him to wear anything and he planned to fight them if they did try. "Oh Minerva," he said with a slight chuckle, "I really would like to see you try and dress him. Besides, he isn't wearing _nothing._ He has managed to find an excellent belt."

The mood of the old man made Gwyl angry, but it made the woman have mixed feelings. She didn't ask again though, nor did she approach him at all which he was glad for. "So this is the wolf-demon?" she finally asked, trying not to look in his direction. He wasn't sure exactly why, but something was making her not like him. Maybe she didn't like him because he was dominant and she was afraid of him.

Albus sighed and looked to two of the other men who had also met them at the edge of the forest. They both nodded and disappeared out the door along with almost half of the room. The only humans left where the ones that had captured him, minus the huge man named Hagrid, the woman called Minerva was there along with a man Gwyl knew. His name was Will, and he and the red-haired boy named Charlie were the only humans he knew who hadn't come back.

"This so called Wolf-Demon is nothing more than a child, a human child," he paused as Gwyl growled at being called human, he wasn't a child either, even the wolves accepted him as an adult. "Impossible, is it may seem it is true. In truth, it is likely that all of us know exactly who the child is."

"It isn't really Harry, is it?" The Will man asked.

Albus blinked and stared at Will for a minute. "Would you care to enlighten me as to how you came to that conclusion?" he asked quietly, but his voice was very to the point. So much so that even Gwyl felt the dominance in it.

Looking around, Will seemed not to know what to say next. He even stared at Gwyl for a minute before he looked away, thoroughly frightened at the piercing stare. He couldn't accept that this demon and the Harry Potter were truly one and the same. This _thing_ wasn't human.

"Well, you see I was out with Hagrid and I heard Bill and Charlie Weasley discussing it when they were talking about the demon. She seemed to think that the Wolf-Demon was Harry Potter and he was her friend. They'd been talking about it right before she disappeared into the forest. He didn't believe any of it, he was just retelling everything to Charlie while they tried to figure out why she would have taken off."

Will finally turned to look at Gwyl and Albus waved his wand-stick around as he did. The dirt and grime that had so thoroughly covered Gwyl disappeared in an instant leaving him completely naked except for a belt he was wearing. The weapons hadn't been taken away as no one dared get close enough to get them. Because of the wall it didn't matter though so things were left alone.

"As you can see the fabled Wolf-Demon is a boy in disguise." Albus said as Gwyl howled at the loss. He knew that he was dirty, but it was almost a part of him and he was angry that this man had taken it away so easily. He retreated into the shadows of the corner and tucked himself into a ball, snarling at anyone that even glanced at him.

No one spoke at all to him, they ignored him for a while, discussing things, trying to figure out how he'd ended up in the forest, and about Stray's disappearance. He wasn't going to tell them anything about either, and they weren't even close to right in both cases anyway. He refused to speak to them at all. They were dirty humans and they'd stolen him from his home, he hated them.

The man named Will eventually got the courage to come close to the invisible barrier and look at Gwyl. "Where you there?" he asked, looking slightly distraught. "Did you take Astraea?"

Gwyl snarled and stayed in the shadows, but also shook his head. He hadn't taken her, she'd come with him and her name wasn't Astraea it was Stray now. He wouldn't tell them that either though, he wasn't going to tell them she was still alive and well, they'd come and take her too. Hopefully if they tried the pack would stop them though, he'd told Ink to take care of her before he left.

Some of the humans left, and Gwyl whimpered quietly as he pressed against the stone. He didn't feel the same there, there were no trees to speak to him and no wind to sing.

A few minutes later the door snapped open and a tall sallow man marched through looking angry. Gwyl bristled at his obvious show, he was trying to show his dominance and Gwyl wasn't about to accept it. "What is it Headmaster?" the man snapped without even looking around. "The potion I was working on is extremely unstable and it'll be ruined if I don't get back."

"Severus," Albus said and the man calmed a little. Gwyl still growled a soft challenge, he wanted to show this man exactly who was dominant to who.

The man, Severus, turned to see him, looking extremely startled. He turned back to Albus, all of the anger gone. "Albus, you are aware you have a naked boy in the corner of this room, correct?" he asked, his voice completely lacking in any emotion whatsoever it was as if his dominant will had just disappeared.

"That, Severus, is not just any naked boy. You are looking at the Wolf-Demon Gwyl in his original form, if you'll look carefully you'll notice a scar just above his right eye in a very recognizable shape..."

Gwyl dropped his head a little, making sure the hair was covering the scar, growling again as he did. Severus seemed to take it as an insult and raised his wand-stick in the air while Gwyl growled louder.

"I wouldn't do that Severus," Albus warned but the man Severus would have nothing of it. He stepped forward, too far forward and Gwyl realized that the barrier around him had dropped. He moved so swiftly that he was behind Severus before the man had even time to move his wand-stick. The door was his first xxxx, but it seemed to have a barrier around it so Gwyl leapt away from it dodging a purple light that was headed towards him. He xxxx the a book shelf and then ran across the top of it, continuing across the cabinets until he jumped from them, grabbing a torch and using it to swing himself around the corner and onto the stairs that led up.

In the next room he scaled another bookcase and waited for his captors to enter so he could steal their wand-sticks. He could hear them talking in very quiet voices in the room below, but neither of them entered. The game they were playing was waiting, but Gwyl had played the game a lot in the hunts and so he stretched a little and curled up as best he could it was best to get some rest while he waited. Green eyes stared continuously at the entrance to the room even when the breathe became short and quick.

There was a slight shuffling sound that awoke Gwyl hours later but he saw nothing so he remained calm and alert. The sound came again, closer, he could hear breathing and his eyes scanned the ground but he saw nothing. He knew somehow that something was wrong and wished the room didn't stink so strongly of humans. Still his mind told him there was something there and he growled at the disturbance, wondering what had come to get him he moved quickly, trying to get into an offensive position but he never made it, he was jerked from the top of the bookshelf and held in mid air, growling and barking, even hissing as he'd sent he leopards do.

A laugh spread through the air and the old man Albus just appeared in thin air. "Quiet a problem you'll cause if you're left alone in the castle," he said with a smile.

Gwyl growled and tried to jerk himself out of the trap but found that once again he could do nothing. He hated being helpless.

When Albus returned Gwyl to the corner of his room where he'd been previously trapped Gwyl once again found the shadows and curled up, waiting for the right time. The brown haired man, whom Gwyl still had no name for, was asleep in an opposite corner on a odd looking seat. Gwyl growled at him just to show his dominance, he didn't like the man much, though he liked most of the humans far less.

The human named Severus appeared hours later. This time he approached with an evil smile. "So Potter," he said, his voice seething with hate. Gwyl snarled and jumped at him only to be held back by the invisible wall. He did seem to startle Severus though.

Severus didn't say anymore directly to Gwyl, who knew he'd won the dominance game with this man. Instead the man turned to the older man, whom Gwyl knew was dominant even though he didn't act it, "He's an animal Albus, not much better than his father or their... _friend_. There's nothing more to be done about it. I suggest we turn him over to the ministry authorities so they can properly dispose of him. He has after all been killing people in the forest."

There was a scuffle in the corner and Gwyl suddenly found the brown-haired man standing, anger dripping off of him. Gwyl could smell the tension that the man was creating and he growled again, feeling the call of the pack that the man was putting off. He was glad the man was finally showing some dominant streak, he still had some potential.

"Harry's _not_ going to be going anywhere," the brown-haired werewolf said. "He's been living in that forest for a long time now and he's gone a little wild. He just needs to be taught how to be human again, there's nothing wrong with him ate all."

"Like teaching a werewolf to dance," Severus said offhand, not even questioning the werewolves dominance.

Even though some of it had been correct, and the man was showing more and more possibility, Gwyl wasn't about to let someone turn him human. He growled in a response to both of the men, daring them to play dominant with him. It seemed that they'd gotten used to his dominance and they didn't say anything at all, they just ignored him which suited Gwyl just fine at the moment. He smirked and moved back into the corner of the room.

"As you know Severus," Albus said with a soft smile, the sort that Gwyl disproved of, "the ministry has classified him as a Demon and therefore, as a Demon he has rights. Until ministry personal has come in contact with him and at least tried and speak with him he is well within the right to protect the land he is claiming as his. There are also several stipulations in relation to the forest, all of which are in his favor. It has long been known that the forest is a preserve and that people enter at their own risk. The only reason that the ministry is even taking a stand is because of the missing girl. However at this time they have called off the search, believing her to be dead."

"So Potter knows where the girl is?" Severus asked, only chancing a quick glance towards Gwyl.

The old man sighed, adjusting the glasses on his face. Gwyl remembered he used to have to wear things like that sometimes, but he hadn't since before, and he didn't like them. He snarled softly, looking away so he didn't remember things from before.

"I do not know if Harry knows where the girl is, he seems to take the stand that she's not in the forest anymore. He has claimed that there are no humans running around in the forest that he knows of and he denies that he stole the girl away."

"Well I think there's an easier way to find out the truth," Severus said and Gwyl noticed that the werewolf was uncomfortable with what was being discussed, which caused Gwyl dislike it.

The old man glanced at Gwyl for and sighed. "I am aware of that," he said calmly as his eyes met Gwyl's. "It is probably the best thing to do now to insure that the girl is not still in the forest."

The Severus man smiled almost wickedly and Gwyl growled in response, not sure what was happening, but not liking it. Severus approached, wand-stick held high. "Well little Wolf-Demon let us see what's trapped in that tiny little mind, shall we?"

Gwyl just growled in response. The man raised his wand, whispered a word that Gwyl didn't know and the whole room went dark. It was dark, ever so dark, and Gwyl moved in the cave he was trapped in without sound. The scene flashed before his eyes and he remembered seeing Firenze at the doorway. It changed again, this time Will and Charlie were being told to stay out of the forest. And again it changed. Stray tackling Gwyl when she found him after hours of searching... Dia and he knives... Silver carrying him home from the zoo.

Inside Gwyl's mind something snapped, and everything became dark again.

Slowly he emerged from a cave, a pack cave, but not one he recognized. When he stepped out he found himself on a rock, face to face with Severus who was staring back, with a startled expression. Everything was odd, as if he were looking through different eyes. He moved easier than usual, his hands and feet striking the ground with ease, there was something completely different about his body. When he smelled the fear exuding from Severus he stopped, slightly surprised, the man hadn't been that submissive at all, he was really afraid of something. Gwyl growled, and realized what it was, somehow he'd taken the form of a wolf in this dream, he could feel it in his gut. He raised his tail and crouched, then leapt forward at the retreating human. Severus screamed and then everything went black again.

They were back in the castle, in the room with the old man and the werewolf too. Severus looked pale, even paler than usual, and he stumbled backwards until he fell into a seat. Albus looked concerned at Severus. He coughed, and then glanced back to Gwyl. "Severus?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Coughing, Severus finally looked around the room. "What is he?" he demanded harshly and Gwyl growled, causing Severus to back away again. Gwyl could smell the fear rolling off of him and it got him riled up, feeling the need to truly show this man why fear was needed.

"Where did you get that... thing?" Severus spat, putting his hand against the far wall.

"Deep in the Forbidden Forest. It took a great deal of planning," the old man said and Gwyl turned his eyes to him, interested in what exactly it took. "First we brought in Remus as he has much more _experience_ in the field. After a great deal of preparation, some of it the potions I you provided just three days ago, we went into the forest looking for the so called Wolf-Demon. He was more difficult than we had imagined tracking down, in fact it took us the better part of a day just to narrow the search down to an area even with magic. I do understand part of it now, when he was a boy I placed several charms on him to keep him from being tracked by the wizarding world. It was because of this that I had difficulty in the search for Harry the first time."

"He eluded capture until late last night when Remus finally caught his scent. We used your potions, effectively making us disappear from every sense that he would use to find us, and then Remus tracked him. In the end we still were unable to narrow it down far enough, but that didn't matter because he came to us. Hagrid, Filius, Hadma, and I were waiting just beyond when he appeared. It was luck that he did not see us as the invisibility potion had worn off by then, though none of the others had."

"He spoke with Remus for a few minutes, which gave us time to prepare. Actually I believe the only reason we caught him was because he was reluctant to strike Remus. It seems that he was more interested in werewolves than in hurting Remus. When he decided to leave Remus caught him in a Carcer box which he somehow managed to break out of. The other two animals with him, a large wolf and a black leopard were trapped as well. I was able to use a spell to temporarily make us invisible again just as he broke out of the box. Because he could not sense us he ran right into us, bringing two more black leopards with him. Hadma and Filius were able to restrain the leopards while I took care of the demon with a specialized Carcer box that shrunk the more you fought. I wasn't even sure of he would be able to get loose again so we left the other animals and Filius backed me up while we brought him here."

"Tell me, exactly what did you see Severus?"

"It's... he's... not human..." Severus whispered staring at Harry. "The way he reacted to my Legilimens was animalistic. He almost bit my head off in the exchange."

"Was there anything else you saw?" Albus asked.

"Yes. There is another one of _him_. It looks very much the same except it seems to be wearing a bit more clothing, not much mind you, just an old cloak. There was a centaur female as well, a very young one. It seems that the centaurs have been lying to us Albus."

"There was another?" The werewolf whom Gwyl believed to be Remus asked, surprised. He t hen turned to look at Gwyl. "Who is out there with you?"

Gwyl only growled in response, there was no way that he'd tell them about Stray. If the Severus man tried to go inside his head again he could drive him out, he remembered how to. "Should we go and look for it?" Remus asked Albus.

Albus shook his head. "At the moment this one is the one we need to be worried about. We will not be telling anyone there is a second one, it may truly be a demon as most demons do have the ability to mimic an animal, it may have chose Harry as that animal. Once we've got Harry straightened out we can go looking for the other one." He said, ignoring Gwyl's growl.

"Are you sure that this one is Harry?" Severus asked, getting some of the scorn back into his voice.

"Yes," the werewolf said. "He reacts to his own name as if he hates it."

"It seems he has some dignity left in him even if he is an animal."

The comment was not as snide as he'd been before, but Gwyl could feel the tension raise in the room. The werewolf didn't like the comment apparently and it was making him bristle up silently. Gwyl growled too, he couldn't help but feel for the wolf, after all, he was pack. But he sort of liked the Severus man too because the Severus man was the only one that saw him as an animal.

"I think we might want to make sure to strengthen the wards around the school Albus in case the other demon comes for Potter. Not that it would matter that much, it would probably be better for him, he seems to enjoy the forest life, it seems as though it runs in the family. His father was caught more times sneaking into the Forbidden Forest than any other student that has ever come to this school."

"I am aware of James Potter's record," Albus said. "But if anything is revealed about Harry he'll once again be the subject of the news. Do you want to deal with reporters trying to sneak in? You remember what it was like while they were hounding us last year after one of the students tried to poison the lake and Hogsmeade's water supply? Do you want to be under that sort of scrutiny once again?"

Reporters. It sounded interesting, Gwyl wanted them to sneak in, maybe they'd help him out of this place. He wasn't counting on it though, they sounded terribly human, sneaking around where they shouldn't belong.

The dark haired Severus turned again to Gwyl. "Perhaps we should just let you go Harry Potter."

For the first time since he'd entered the room Gwyl didn't growl. In fact, he agreed with the man completely except for the name part. He nodded. "Not Harry," he said, speaking for the first time since he'd been brought to this place. "Have new name. Gwyl the Wolf-Demon. Gwyl want to leave too, want to go back to forest, to home."

"It _can_ talk," Severus said snidely, not even trying to hide his disdain. "Well, there you are, it wants to go back too. Why don't we just let him go and show him the way out. I certainly won't think twice about it."

The Werewolf growled under his breath, barely loud enough for Gwyl to hear. Gwyl glanced to him, but his eyes were only on Severus. The old human Albus was the one who spoke though. "That will not be necessary Severus," he said quietly "What I would like to do is have you brew the Revendum Potion. I understand that it may take a few days and you may have to go get some of the ingredients, I will take care of whatever you require."

Severus's eyes grew large and Gwyl could hear his heart beating faster. "But Albus, that's..."

The old man Albus just held up his hands, and Severus was quiet. Gwyl watched all of it intrigued, the old man was definitely dominate even though he didn't look it. "I want to take him back to before he was put through the trials he's been put through. It is possible that he'll forget everything that's happened in the past 2 years, and we can work on him from there. I do wish I could use a memory charm on him, but I'm afraid if something triggers those memory's he'll lapse back to the state he was in, and we'll have even more difficulty."

The man Albus stood and no one said anything more. "Now Severus I believe you have a potion to get brewing," he said quietly.

Severus turned and left the room rather rushed. Gwyl barked after him right before the door shut behind him and Remus laughed. Gwyl turned to stare at him, even if he was pack he wasn't in Gwyl's best standings at the moment.

Gwyl had finally regained his balance and he scooted back to the corner again, not sure what to make of the earlier vision. It had felt so splendid for just a second when he was a wolf, like everything he cared or needed to do was gone and he just was.

The old man Albus walked around the desk and looked down to the werewolf Remus. "You'll watch him for a little while then?" he asked, "without getting him emotional?"

Remus nodded and then Albus also disappeared through the door.

Gwyl pulled back into the dark corner, not really feeling like trying to talk to the werewolf. Right now he needed to get some sleep still, the short nap in the library wasn't enough and he needed to get his strength back.

"I knew your parents you know," the werewolf said. Gwyl ignored him, he wasn't going to talk, he wasn't going to do anything. Maybe they would decide to let him go if he didn't do anything. He didn't understand why the humans wanted to interfere anyway, he liked life just fine in the woods.

"Alright, what about being a werewolf, do you want to know about it?"

The only response Remus got was a snarl and a death stare from Gwyl. Nothing else was said as Gwyl curled himself up into a ball and fell asleep.

–:–

Almost two days later, Gwyl awoke to Remus and Albus talking. He'd gotten used to their presence, and could sleep with them around, though as soon as they approached something would go off inside and he'd be wide awake, ready to attack. The Severus man hadn't appeared again, he didn't seem to like Gwyl, very much which suited Gwyl just fine. Though, he would have liked to have another chance of making the magic go away, he knew the only way out was the doorway he'd come in through.

"We have to put him back in his aunt and uncles care…"

Gwyl's attention was suddenly fully on Albus, who was currently speaking. "I've sent a note explaining what has happened and asking if they would be willing to take him back once we've got him straightened out."

"But he was _abused_ there Albus. That's why he ran away in the first place." Remus said, as Gwyl stared. He was getting angry and afraid, very afraid. He knew they were talking about him.

Albus shook his head. "What happened to him before was merely a series of misunderstandings and some accidental magic. Harry didn't run away from what I've put together. It seems he apparated into, or relatively close to, the forbidden forest. There was some more magic that happened before then which is what caused his uncle to get so angry."

Unconsciously Gwyl relieved the moments before he had gone to the forest and his whole body started to tremble. He wouldn't go back, ever!

"But Albus…"

Something inside Gwyl snapped and the whole room seemed to explode around him as he screamed a terrified refusal. Time slowed and Gwyl looked around as both of the men turned ever so slowly towards him. He could see that Albus was going for his wand, but Gwyl moved, throwing himself towards the desk and the two men to stop them from making him go back. He couldn't go back, he wouldn't go back.

Time clicked back to normal, but the damage was already done. The wand that had been sitting on Albus's desk when skittering across the floor and both men were knocked to their feet. Gwyl wasn't sure what was happening, but he wasn't about to let them cage him again so that he could go back to the family he'd been in.

Gwyl headed for the door, but turned away again when he saw the werewolf had already gotten to his feet. In the distance Gwyl could hear someone approaching and he looked around, trying to think of how to gain the moments he needed to escape. The only way he'd be able to make it out was if the door was already open. The second he would spend opening it would be too much, the werewolf was too quick.

So instead of going for the door Gwyl once more darted for the staircase where he'd hidden before. Remus switched directions and headed towards the stairwell as well. However Gwyl used the desk to stop himself and once more fling his little body towards the door as it began to creak open.

The ploy worked. The person, who he knew was a small human, possibly the Filius person that was only as tall as himself, opened the door at the right moment and never had the chance to do anything. Gwyl threw them out of the way and scampered down the stairs.

Behind him he could hear the commotion and the werewolf moving after him. The statue that had let them in moved aside and Gwyl rushed out the door, startling a bunch of students who were walking by. Two of their wand-sticks were in his hand before any of them had moved at all and he bowled over the rest of the students leaving them crying on the ground. They were still children, and innocent to some degree, he didn't want to hurt them unless they forced him to.

He looked both directions, and his eyes widened, they looked different from when he'd been brought in. He decided to head right and darted down the hall. There were more children in the halls as he rounded the first corner and he snarled loudly. They parted, scared to death of him, and he continued past them.

"I say," someone said in an empty hallway and Gwyl spun around. He hadn't sensed anyone at all and couldn't understand how someone could have been there without him having at least heard them. He was even moving too fast to be completely silent. His knife was in his right hand, and it glinted the sunlight that shown through an upper window. No one was there and Gwyl spun again, looking to the window. He wanted to escape this place.

One of the portraits was staring directly at him, as if it were alive. Gwyl shivered and then jerked his knife upward as he jumped, cleaving the portrait in half. Someone screamed and the portrait moved. As the pieces of it fell to the ground he saw nothing but an empty landscape, the man who'd occupied it was missing completely. Gwyl's eyes traveled to the upper end of the hall where a group of people were coming around the corner. He looked around and his eyes only found the window above. With great difficulty Gwyl grabbed the wall and climbed, using the knife occasionally to open cracks further. It took a minute but he soon found himself sitting on the windowsill looking out down on a courtyard of the castle. He was far too high to jump and so he turned back to the inside of the castle. The hallways was tall, but he'd jumped from higher and so he lept to the ground, landing with a crunch, but not hurting himself.

Someone gasped and he looked up at a girl who was bright red. Several of her friends were cowering behind her, but she was the one that was looking directly at him. "You're... naked," she said hesitantly. Gwyl, thinking she'd try and clothe him snarled and then jumped to the side, dashing down the hallway that they'd come from. He was getting confused at all the hallways. A stairwell was in front of him and he started down it, only to find that it jerked, moving away from the destination he'd originally started for. At the top of the stairs he could hear people and Remus the werewolf rounded the corner. "Gwyl!" he shouted angrily. "Stop now!" he commanded as several of the girls from the hallways came in behind him.

Had it been in the forest Gwyl would have stopped to show his dominance now that the man was finally making the gestures of fighting, but he wasn't in the forest and he felt trapped here. The man may be part wolf, but he was part human as well, and humans didn't know what dominance meant as far as he'd seen. Even if he won the man wouldn't help him get loose.

Below him there was another stairwell moving and Gwyl decided it was best to get away as fast as possible. He backed away towards the side of the stairs, then with a quick step mounted the banister and lept out into the open area of stairs. He could hear screams above him, but he ignored them and was able to grab the banister on the stairs he'd been aiming for. He easily pulled himself over and onto those stairs, which he ran down and disappeared through another door.

Two large metal shells that looked vaguely like humans were standing on either side of the doorway as he entered the hallway. Gwyl couldn't sense any life in them and so he started down the hall, intent on finding another way down, there were no more stairs below him that he could have lept to so there had to be another way to get to the ground, maybe more stairs somewhere else.

"Students there is an young boy on the loose in the hallways who believes himself to be an animal, please remain calm and stay out of its way should you see it. I would also like all students except prefects to go to their next classroom immediately and close the door, await your professor until this crisis is done with. Prefects please begin checking the hallways. Do not harm the boy, a simple stunning spell should work. Be careful he is very quick and quite smart." The castle echoed and Gwyl spun around again, trying to figure out where the voice had come from. Seeing no one he sheathed his knife and scampered down the hallway.

A man, or something like a man appeared at the end of the hall floating towards Gwyl slowly. It looked as if he had something in his hands and as Gwyl approached he slowed, wary of the thing. "Well hello!" the wide mouthed man said, looking quite content. "Causing trouble are we?"

Gwyl pulled his knife out in a smooth motion and charged towards the man only to find himself running right through him. The man cackled wildly. "Kill me? That's certainly something new. Such fun, such hate, oh what shall I do?" he paused and his eyes lit up as if he'd just seen something great – like Stray's had when Gwyl had given her the whip.

"So what are we up to today my ickle animal friend? Shall we trash the halls and torture the students? Or is it food we seek? Shall we give the young students a sight to behold? A stark naked little beast?" he bowed slightly. "What is your name oh naked one?" he said with a laugh.

"Gwyl," Gwyl snarled. "I am Gwyl the Wolf-Demon." He continued, not sure exactly if he liked the little man.

"A demon? A Gwyl! The school shall be ill. Shall we go and fulfill whatever duty you might will?"

"I want to leave," Gwyl said, trying to keep calm. The floating man didn't seem to care that he was suppose to be locked up.

"Then come, we shall go, we'll rile the school up and give them a show!" the man said, swirling in mid air and floating down the hall cackling a strange tune.

"A man or a beast? A demon released!"

The wolf inside Gwyl got angry, but ignored the words, "faster," he growled and the chubby little man sped up, beginning to drop the things he had in his hands.

"Follow you the may, but shan't come this way!" Gwyl's keen senses picked up a nasty smell coming from behind him and he glanced back to see the hallway completely enclosed in some sort of thick cloud.

The found the stairs and the man floated down, then moved to the door, but Gwyl got onto the railing and looked down on the staircases below. There were dozens of them, all moving back and forth. Gwyl scanned, waited and then jumped through the air, grabbing onto banister and pulling himself over. He got up onto it again and was about ready to jump when the little man floated past on his back. "Don't think that's the way. Teachers waiting down there today!"

Gwyl growled again, but stopped, deciding it might be best to avoid teachers, they were the ones that would be after him. He pushed through the door and began running down the hallways. Another metal person was standing not far in front of him and Gwyl ignored it until it moved into the middle of the corridor, holding up an axe.

A memory flooded through Gwyl's mind of the last time he'd seen an axe and he drew his knife as he ran, charging the metal man. It didn't have a chance, it swung the axe down and buried it into the ground while Gwyl slid past it, slicing it several times. When he finally stood back the man was in several pieces and Gwyl could see that he was plainly empty. He couldn't figure out exactly how the man had moved if there was nothing inside, but he it wasn't the oddest thing he'd seen so far.

Something moved up the hall and Gwyl swore he heard something whisper to him. He looked up to see a man he knew, frozen in his spot. Gwyl growled at Will and darted forward. He knew the man Will and knew he could handle that particular human. Will didn't seem to respond as normal though and his wand-stick was raised in the air quickly. Magic sprouted from it, sliding through the air at Gwyl who easily dodged, but had to change the attack because of it.

Before another light bloomed from the wand-stick Gwyl attacked with rage, going for the mans legs first to get him on the ground. The professor was completely unprepared and found himself airborne for a moment before his head slammed into the stone floor.

"Don't" Will gasped, but Gwyl was already on top of him, knife imbedded in the man's body. He didn't strike anywhere to mortally wound the man, but it would slow him and he didn't this man running after him. The man had obeyed him and stayed away from the forest, and he wasn't a part of the humans that had captured him, so Gwyl didn't resent him at all, which meant he didn't feel the need to kill him.

After cutting the teachers legs in several spots Gwyl lifted him easily, tossing him through the door he'd original appeared from. Gwyl followed him to make sure the man was incapacitated and found himself in a room full of humans that were not much older than him. One of them started to say something but Gwyl growled, brandishing his knife and the human silenced.

Something else caught his eye, jars with little blue men. Angry that the humans had caged other creatures Gwyl bound forward, spending a moment to remove the tops of the jars. Another of the children started to say something but Gwyl flung the jar at the human, hitting him in the head and making him collapse.

None of the other children even met his eye after that, they all looked down at the ground, huddled in the corner of the room while little blue people flittered around the room, breaking things. When one of them got close to Gwyl he growled at it simply because even though he'd let it free he didn't like it, it was only enough for it to stand off for a second. When it headed towards him again Gwyl snatched it out of the air by its wings and then, holding it in its hand took a good look at it. He wondered if it were edible, but decided against trying one. He flung it against a nearby wall and it went limp. The other blue men flew together, forming a wall of sorts and started moving towards Gwyl, but he knew they were attacking and though he could defeat them he didn't want to spend the time to do it so he scampered out the door he'd come in as the corned children watched, frightened.

The blue men gave chase but they began to loose their focus and after a while most of them had disappeared down a side hallway. The little floating man was nowhere to be seen, but occasionally heard an off-tune song floating along the halls. He was sure the man was somewhere not too far away, but he didn't really care.

There was a large set of double doors that he ran across and he paused, staring at them. They weren't as big as the doors he'd come in through, but maybe the doors changed sizes, everything else in the castle changed. He twisted one of the knobs and stepped through, only to get pushed by one of the blue-men.

There was a startled cry as the door slammed shut behind him and Gwyl growled out loud. There were four of the little blue men, one was playing with the doorknobs, and when it moved away they looked as if they'd been melted together. Two of them had wand-sticks and were a good deal above Gwyl's reach. They waved the wand and Gwyl scampered off, trying to find a place to battle them from. He really didn't want to have to, but they were forcing him.

Someone yelled and Gwyl and he turned to see another human, and that instead of being outside he was in a room filled with books. There were tall walls that were filled with books and had places to crawl on almost like a ladder and so Gwyl dashed towards them to find a higher position. Something exploded behind him, but he continued to run, grabbing one of the lower steps on the wall and propelled himself up until he was sitting on top of the wall, ready to face the little blue men.

One of them was already flying directly at him, one had disappeared, and there were two more of them that looked as if they were talking together. Gwyl didn't hear anything though, and he was more focused on the little beast in front of him. The thing giggled in a weird voice and darted forward, his little wings beating madly.

The wand-stick in his hand shot out a red light and Gwyl jumped from one of the walls to another, and then another. There was a scream, but Gwyl ignored it, believing it to be the bird-like woman who was at the desk in the center of the room. She'd cried out again and something heavy moved behind Gwyl, he could hear the scratching. Still, he didn't look back until he'd jumped several walls and felt he had a better stand against the blue men and more importantly the wand-stick.

When he finally did turn around it was just in time. The wall's he'd come bounding from were tipping over behind him and the one he'd just jumped from was falling towards the one he was on. Three more bounds and Gwyl was at the edge of the room. He dropped from his position and crouched as the wall came tumbling down above him. It stopped partway, but books rained down upon him, burying him beneath a several inches paper. Something cackled wildly behind him and the paper that was covering him started to heat up. Gwyl thrashed again, pushing himself away from the area, and dragging the bookcase with him. It didn't move well, but it was pushing up against him with the books, and it was the only way to move.

Something lightened the load and Gwyl turned to see the bookcase was lifted clean into the air. He didn't see anyone behind him, but that didn't matter. Once the bookshelf was up he just pushed through the pile of books and started running, slipping on the books that littered the floor. He crawled up onto the far wall, and looked around. Only one of the little blue men where even in site, and it looked as if it had been struck by one of the falling walls. It was dizzy and sort of bobbing in mid air.

There was something more dangerous, the old bird-like woman was standing near the middle of the room, her wand raised and a look of absolute rage on her face. She immediately focused on Gwyl and he growled at her, dodging that colored light that flew his direction.

He scampered along the outside ring of walls, jumping to some of them on the opposite side of the room where they hadn't fallen yet, and then heading for the door. It burst open as he ran at it and he continued down the hallways where he'd been headed in the first place. There was someone behind him that was yelling, he ignored them of course and continued down the hall, moving as quick as possible. The hall opened up into a stairwell and Gwyl simply lept across the platform, moving straight instead of going down. They would think he'd gone down and therefore go that way, it would be easier if they weren't directly behind him.

The open area between platforms wasn't the big, and he easily made it, throwing up a cloud of dust when he did. It didn't seem that humans came this way often, but Gwyl didn't care if they came this way often, he cared if they followed now. Once he'd run for another few minutes and he thought he was alone he looked around. The hallway was completely deserted and the human smell was extremely vague. Gwyl guessed humans hadn't been there in quite a long time. There were other smells, some he recognized, some he didn't.

Looking up, Gwyl spotted a colored window. The wall was smooth, but there were rafters above and further down he was able to scale a pillar. After swinging across he got his foot on the window ledge and tried to look out the window. There was a problem though, the window was hard to see through.

Gwyl growled and slammed into the window, nothing happened, so he did it again.

After several unsuccessful tries he stepped back as far as he could and looked at the window. He knew it must be magical, because he'd seen windows broken before and they really weren't that hard to break. So, taking one of the wand-sticks from his belt he prodded it, trying to use it as a tool to hack away at the window and still nothing happened. He remembered that the wand-sticks needed words to work and he tried to remember one of them that had heard before. He needed something violent, and his mind locked onto a word he remembered from the first time he'd seen magic. If it could hurt a charging troll surely it could break a window.

_"Constrictum!" _he yelled just as he'd heard it said.

A light flashed from the end of his wand and the window cracked like a web. For a few seconds nothing happened, but finally the window burst, but instead of the glass shattering into the opening beyond it explode inward, covering Gwyl in shards of glass. The glass was extremely painful, and he started to bleed all over, but he did little more than flinch.

After taking a moment to center himself he looked back out the window, blood dripping from the wounds in his body. The ground below was closer, but not close enough to jump to. He growled and then leaned further out, trying to see if he could just scale the wall. It was too smooth though, there were small abrasions and some wearing over time, but none of it was enough for Gwyl to climb down with.

Finally, angry, Gwyl turned back to the hall, jumping down to the floor. He landed badly because of his injuries, but was more surprised to find that there was a creature next to him. He jumped back as soon as he'd regained his balance, drawing his knife as he did. The thing, whatever it was, was most definitely not human. It did have arms and legs, and eyes, nose and a mouth, but it just wasn't shaped right. It didn't smell right either.

"Sir," the little beast squeaked, looking extremely frightened. "Anny is here to clean up the mess. There is no need to be angry with her," the creature said and Gwyl to a step back, but sheathed the knife. He could tell that the little creature was scared of it, and it didn't seem to be anything that Gwyl needed to be offensive with.

Once the knife had disappeared the creature sighed. "Master!" she said promptly, "Let Anny cleanup the glass from you!"

Gwyl shot her a look as she snapped her fingers. The glass that had imbedded itself in his body was gone and Gwyl growled loudly. He didn't like magic, especially when it was used on him. Anny trembled but didn't run off, she just continued staring at Gwyl why she was sweeping the glass into a pile magically.

"Is Anny able to help master more?" she asked, trying not to reach out for him. The blood was still trailing down his body, most of it had dried, but the elf couldn't help but want to help him. Gwyl growled again and Anny snapped back in fear.

"Need to leave castle," Gwyl instructed and the little elf nodded quickly.

Turning Anny pointed down the hallway and started moving forward. Gwyl followed cautiously but quickly. "Anny is knowing the quickest way out sir, it is a small passage though, can master go this way?" she asked, and she moved aside to show a small hole that had suddenly appeared in the wall. Gwyl nodded and ducked into it, feeling much safer knowing that the other humans couldn't follow – they were far too big. He didn't trust Anny much though, even though she wasn't human she had used magic, and without a wand-stick, he would have to find out about that later on.

The passage wasn't really small, but Gwyl had to crouch slightly to move around in it. He didn't mind, and Anny seemed to move as fast as Gwyl could keep up. They continued for several minutes until they came to another hallway. "Is on more passage Master," Anny said happily. Gwyl just nodded, but stopped suddenly as he picked up a vaguely familiar scent.

Looking around Gwyl rose and sniffed the air again, then dropped to the floor, sniffing. To his mind it was almost impossible, but he was smelling, feeling something familiar. He could _taste_ Stray on the air, as if she'd been there moments before. It wasn't exactly her scent, but it was at the same time. It was more like her scent before she had come to the forest.

Whirling Gwyl bound down the empty hallway as fast as he could move. The hall turned into a staircase, and then as Gwyl reached the bottom in only two leaps, split into two separate passages. It took no time to decide which he would go down and as he bound down the darkened passage he would slow every few moments to scent the air. Finally he came to a door where the scent stopped. Growling, he crashed through and heard a horrible heaving sound, as if Stray had been injured. His rage overflowed as he saw a human, several years older than himself, on top of a girl with black hair. He couldn't make out the girls features but it didn't matter he was sure who it was. With a howl he launched himself forward only to slam into a mirrored wall so hard that he was thrown back several feet. The mirror shattered and Gwyl spun around, unsure what had happened.

The two people were not far from the doorway he'd entered through and he howled again, shaking the pain away and launching himself forward. The girl who smelled like stray gasped and came into full view and Gwyl stopped mid stride, sliding most of the way across the room into the two humans.

"You're…" the girl gasped, reaching out for Gwyl, who was far too quick and moved out of her reach instantly. The boy who had suddenly regained his composure moved for his pocket and Gwyl guessed what was in it. So instead of letting the human get his wand-stick Gwyl attacked, bowling the boy over and knocking him unconscious.

"…Harry." The girl finally finished with a gasp, pulling her unbuttoned cloak more tightly around herself. "Astraea's friend. You're naked and bloody."

Gwyl growled and backed away as the girl tried to stand. He didn't like this, he didn't like this at all. Stray's sister was here, and she was going to know, she was going to know Stray was alive. He whipped around the room again, looking for another exit, but the only one was the door and Stray's sister, Tonks, was between him and the door.

"Did you take her?" the girl asked inquiringly, stepping forward. Gwyl moved back, afraid to attack and not wanting to be crowded.

It occurred to Gwyl that he could just attack her and end it, but he couldn't do that. She was Stray's sister, and even though humans didn't put much into family Gwyl sensed that Stray might be angry or sad about it if she ever find out. He'd already done too much to make it worse and he wouldn't do anymore.

Raising the wand he'd stolen from the now unconscious boy, Gwyl growled. Tonks didn't seem to like the wand and transferred her attention to it instead of Gwyl. Using this as a chance to move Gwyl flicked the wand forward and at the same time, himself. He surprised Tonks completely, knocking her to the side and dashing back out the door.

The surprise of meeting Tonks had thrown Gwyl off and he went the wrong way and by the time he realized it Tonks was hot on his trail. Not wanting to deal with the girl he just continued forward at a full sprint. There were no windows that he could see anywhere and none of the doors seemed to be open. When he finally saw one cracked he dashed for it against his better judgment, he could smell humans behind it, but he needed to find a way out and thought that the door might lead away.

When he burst through the classroom door there were people there, sitting at desks, with strange looking bowls and fire all around. There was a nasty smell that permeated the room, but across from it Gwyl spotted a small window and he continued forward without hesitation, over desks, knocking over the strange bowls and the fires. Bits of the liquids they were making kept spilling all over and people were screaming. Gwyl ignored them all though, only thinking about the window.

It was only glass, when Gwyl shattered it with his knife he found rocks behind it, as if it had been covered up. He dropped from the window in disgust, still holding his knife. Some of the students who had come to their senses raised their wand-sticks, while others stared, mouths agape. Gwyl dodged the magic as best he could, but ended up on the floor twice with bright blue liquid coating his body. The girl Tonks was not far beyond the door so Gwyl, ignoring the pain, went for the door in the front of the classroom hoping it lead somewhere else away from the students and their magic. He could overpower several of them, but between Tonks and the sheer number he knew he would not win unless he just started killing them.

The doorway did lead somewhere else, but it was a short room and Gwyl was moving too fast to stop himself as he slid through the doorway and into the shelves on the opposite side. The last thing that went through Gwyl's mind was that the floor seemed to be as slick as the ice in the winter.

–:–

"…Dragon's blood and a Donner's Draught," a voice snarled in the background. "I spent three months trying to successfully brew that potion and now this little animal has gone and ruined all that work. He even spilled Newt's tale into the Revendum Potion I was brewing, I'll have to start it over again as well."

"Quiet," another voice snapped.

"I am sorry."

"Look at him…"

"Bloody…"

"Vicious,"

"…enjoyed the fall."

"…cut up Mrs. Selene's portrait on the fourth floor."

"Everyone will recover… no harm… out of anger…"

•


	15. Escape

Chapter 15

• Escape •

Gwyl was stuck once more in the office where he'd spent his last several nights. There was now a bed in the corner and a small dresser. A plate of food was sitting, untouched, just inside the invisible barrier that had been erected around him.

Even though he was starved Gwyl refused to eat, he had approached every plate that had been placed inside his barrier and all of them had smelled funny, _felt_ funny, like magic.

Since the attempted escape everything had been different. Gwyl had awoken in another room, in another place, with a weird lady watching him. She had raised her wand-stick at him and he'd tasted the magic as it flew towards him. Everything had spring to life all at once, like the air was suddenly different, livelier. Afraid, he'd scooted back against the wall only to find that it to was alive.

A day had passed since that moment, when night had come he'd been brought back to this place, though he wasn't sure why. He knew it was Albus's room, but he didn't understand why he had to be kept in it, and why he couldn't stay in the room he'd been in.

It didn't matter though, he was stuck either way. The escape had been botched because he didn't know where he was going and he was stuck imprisoned and eventually going to his aunt and uncles again. There was one good thing about the escape, if it could be considered good. The werewolf never left the room for more than a few minutes at a time. He had even been sleeping until a few moments before, sitting directly across from Gwyl.

"You're not eating," the werewolf said. Gwyl looked around to make sure that no one else was present and then looked back at the werewolf, shaking his head.

"Magic," he said quietly, but nothing more. He knew it, just like he knew the walls were magic and the air, and the paintings. He could even feel people that were magic now, and it had all happened since he'd woken up after the escape.

"How do you know?" Remus asked, moving forward, slowly and cautiously. He'd gotten Gwyl to speak and didn't want to scare him into silence again. He motioned quietly towards the food and reached in through the small hole in the invisible cage, extracting the food.

When the wand-stick was raised Gwyl growled involuntarily and Remus lowered it, backing up slightly. "I'm not going to use it on you," he said, slowly raising it again. "I'm just checking the food for magic," he explained. Gwyl didn't do anything that was normally perceivable, but Remus could feel him change his attitude just slightly and continued to bring his wand up. After he used several different spells on the food he looked back to Gwyl.

"They're to help you feel better," he explained quietly. "You got hurt pretty bad when you went on that rampage through the castle. It's a good thing you didn't do anything that was unfixable, though a few students will have to be obliviated because what they saw was too much for them to cope with."

Then, very carefully he slid the plate back into the barrier. Gwyl wouldn't accept it though, there was no way he was going to eat it.

"What if I try it first?" Remus asked, trying to keep some sort of conversation, or even a connection, going.

Looking down at the food Gwyl thought for a moment before shaking his head. He was hungry, but he wasn't about to eat anything with magic in it.

"What if I get some food without magic?" the werewolf asked.

This time Gwyl thought harder. If he was going to escape he knew he'd need food, he could already feel himself weakening. He wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since he'd eaten. He did know it had been at least four days though some more time had passed, he was sure of it. "I'll call an elf to get something brought here, something freshly cooked without magic."

"Not cook," Gwyl replied immediately.

Remus stared for a minute, but nodded. "Pacey…" he said softly, pausing for a second before continuing again. "Pacey we need you for a moment."

A little creature appeared instantly next to Remus and Gwyl scrambled backwards, startled. There was little more than a soft pop to announce that it had even come. "Don't be afraid," Remus said, seeing Gwyl's surprise as fear. "It's a house-elf, they do it all the time."

"Anny." Gwyl said, pointing at the little creature. It was not the same one he'd encountered before, but it was very, very similar.

The little elf shook his head and looked at Gwyl curiously. "He is Anny's charge from the other night. She is baking her feet because she is not knowing not to help him."

Remus looked at the little elf sternly. "Tell her she'll do no such thing. Anny did what she thought was right, and from what I understand she did help Harr… Gwyl… from getting injured too much more."

Gwyl didn't understand what was happening, nor did he care to, but he did find the elf fascinating. Now that he was stuck and had more time to examine the creature he was sure that they were once human, or something like it. They may not smell human, but they did look very similar, like very small people. The problem was that some of their features were different, their enlarged eyes and pointed ears, even their clothing. Neither the elf Gwyl had run into before, nor this elf wore little more than a bad with holes in it.

"Pacey will you get some food, something raw and with no magical additives, for our friend here, he doesn't like magical food or anything cooked."

The little elf simply nodded and then disappeared again, this time with a much louder pop. Gwyl stared, transfixed at the spot where the elf had stood moments before. "It's called apparating," Remus explained. "It's what you did to get away from your aunt and uncle."

At the mention of his Uncle a deep rumble came from Gwyl's throat. Remus stepped back, finding his seat and staring quietly at Gwyl, a thought filled look on his face. Pacey appeared again, this time inside the barrier that held Gwyl. He left the food in front of a very startled Gwyl before disappearing again. The food, which was uncooked and unmagicked, was good enough for Gwyl and he ripped through it, filling his stomach and the severe hunger.

"That's better," The werewolf said once Gwyl had devoured all of the food. He'd watched quietly the whole time, not sure if it would be proper to interrupt, but not that Gwyl was done he wanted to continue talking, to coax Gwyl out of his shell.

"Why don't you want to stay?" Remus asked, getting straight to the point.

Gwyl stared for a long moment before moving back into the shadows. Remus sighed, thinking he'd lost the connection, but then Gwyl spoke. "Want to go home."

"But your home isn't the forest. It's hundreds of kilometers away."

Growling Gwyl moved back into the light, trying to make his point. "Not ever go back _there_," he spat and then slunk back into his corner. "Not home, cage – like here."

The door opened and Albus walked in, looking a little too morose for Remus who wasn't feeling quite the best either. Neither noticed the spider that had made its way in through the door, following Albus. Gwyl noticed though, he _always_ noticed. What was interesting to him was that the moment the spider entered it immediately headed towards him. It wasn't a small spider, in fact it was almost the size of Gwyl's fist, but the two humans seemed to be concerned with other things.

An hour later, when Gwyl was alone for a few moments he spoke to the spider that'd stayed with him in the shadows. "Help coming?" he asked, still slightly agitated from earlier, but feeling hope that someone might be coming to help. The little spider danced back and forth on Gwyl's palm, signaling Gwyl was right. He smiled.

"School big," he growled decidedly. "Find easy way in and out before help."

The spider danced again and then hopped from Gwyl's hand, scurrying off. Gwyl leaned against the wall and listened to the soft humming of the castle, falling asleep much more content than he'd been the whole time he was held captive.

–:–

"This must be taken care of right away!" a voice said, waking Gwyl from his slumber. A very portly man in an extremely odd looking set of clothes was sitting in front of the desk and talking to Albus. "I have heard from several sources that this Demon has been captured and brought to the school. You must understand the risks you've taken by doing such a thing."

Gwyl growled, he wasn't sure how the man had not seen him, but he wasn't one to sit around and let people talk about him without knowing he was present. The portly man shifted in his seat and Albus glanced in Gwyl's direction, but there was no more notice than that.

"And then..." the man blustered. "Then I hear that the creature got loose and took on the shape of a naked boy, running around terrorizing the school. You must let the wizards in the Magical Creatures department do their job, they know exactly how to deal with this sort of thing. They told me that one of the worst things that could have happened was the Demon being imprisoned; it will anger the Demon and cause all sorts of problems. Due to the xxx nature of the thing we're dealing with it really does need to be handled by some one more…capable."

"Are you implying Minister, that I am not capable of handling a demon by myself?" Albus asked, Gwyl could feel the presence of the man fill the entire room, as if small tentacles were reaching out and wrapping around everything, including the man that Albus called Minister.

Minister waved his hands back and forth. "No, no, no," he said quickly, looking paler from the magic that was being set loose inside the room. Gwyl didn't like it either, but the man seemed to be an idiot, and he liked idiot's less. "You must understand Albus that these are very delicate things we're dealing with, very delicate indeed. What if the papers should hear that the Demon is indeed imprisoned here? There will be another frenzy like that incident last year with the Snap fellow."

"Severus Snape handled that with excellent restrain I believe, and the matter was cleared up quite quickly."

"He threatened to poison Rita Skeeter if she didn't write a retraction article!"

"Yes, but he didn't just poison her, he gave her a chance to redeem herself, even if only a little."

"That's not the point!" The portly man shouted. Gwyl growled again involuntarily. "I have to question him regarding the disappearance of one Astria Tonks. Her parents have come to believe she's still alive even after all this time, thanks to your incessant reassurances that they are right I have to continue to investigate the matter."

"I believe her name is Astraea Minister," Albus said quietly, and it looked as if he were about to chuckle.

"There have been four wounded Aurors since we started the search in the forest! And now we have to deal with the confederation of wizards because there has been a confirmed case of Acromantula in the forest. This forest will be under even more protection than before. This matter is really getting out of hand. Why can you not just hand the Demon over?"

"The guest has already been questioned involving the missing girl and I believe that if Astraea is still alive she is elsewhere. Though we were unable to get a straight answer and Severus had quite a time trying to get any answer at all." Albus said with a laugh. "Your information is incorrect anyway minister, we are no longer holding the demon captive. In fact, I believe the demon you would like to speak with is still in the forest."

"But…" sputtered Minister and Gwyl growled. He didn't want the Minister man to go after Stray; she might not be able to fend off his magic even if she could probably kill him in a fair fight.

"I'm sorry Minister but you never spoke to me about what should happen if I captured the Demon," Albus said quite calmly. Gwyl growled in anger. This man wanted to talk to him and even though the man seemed like an idiot he could also be the way to getting back to the forest.

–:–

Remus was there, trying to think of some way to get through the walls that Gwyl had built up around himself, and continued to find nothing but dead ends. "Would you like to know about werewolves?" Remus asked quietly.

Gwyl perked up immediately, he was stuck and knew even though help was coming there was nothing that he could do about it now so it was best to be silent or listen to Remus talk about werewolves, because they were a subject Gwyl was more than a little interested in.

Seeing the interest in the subject Remus smiled. "Lycanthropy, which is the formal name of the disease of being a werewolf, has been around for a very long time. No one is quite sure where it started or how, it simply exists, like magic exists. Through the ages most people believed that Werewolves were some sort of demon, a being possessed by one at least. It has only been a few hundred years since even wizards discovered it was nothing more than a monthly product of a magical anomaly. Some believe it was a curse gone bad that has since been mutated and passed on through the blood."

Remus looked up to find Gwyl staring at him at him. "Right…" Remus said shaking his head. "It's really quite simple. What it's narrowed down to is that people have been studying werewolf bites for centuries and other than the fact that they carry the genetic information to make others transform they can figure nothing out."

"During the full moon every month," Remus said, trying to word the explanation easier. "Anyone infect with lycanthropy – that is anyone who is a werewolf, changes into a wolf for one night of the month. During the time that they are in this form the person is no longer in control, rather the primal mind of the wolf takes over. It has been rumored that alpha's can control themselves, but as I have never met a true alpha, there is no way of knowing if that information is true. There are lots of rumors dealing with alphas. There is one only one that is definitely true, an alpha werewolf can change form when ever he chooses. That information has been documented by the ministry when they were fighting werewolves hundreds of years ago.

"Humans can be wolves?" Gwyl asked, more interested. "When they want?"

Remus laughed. "There are other ways of doing it, but yet, humans can become wolves in this way. You have to understand that becoming a werewolf is neither fun nor pleasant. The transformation itself is painful, sometimes extremely painful. Since you have no control over the beast within you must hide in the forest so that you do not harm other people. Many werewolves have been killed because of the inability to control the urges to attack people. The ministry even has a group of Aurors that specialize in tracking down and stopping Werewolves. Generally the werewolves do not live once they are captured."

"How change?" Gwyl asked, somehow having missed the explanation that had been given.

"When a person changes into wolf form they are highly contagious… anyone that is given an open wound – anything that bleeds – receives the disease. Within a months time the person will become a werewolf."

Gwyl nodded and was content. Though Remus tried to continue the conversation Gwyl had heard enough to know all he needed to know. The next time he encountered a werewolf he'd make sure to get in a fight with it.

–:–

Not long after, at the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest a small spider made its way into the trees. A dark haired demon was waiting for it. Taking it into its hand, the demon rushed through the forest like the wind, a guard following close behind on the ground.

Depositing the spider next to one of its older brothers Stray, the demon waited.

"He has been found," the large spider said, it's pincers clicking slowly. It stopped again, listening to something that not even Stray could hear. "It is in a hidden room, but it is easy to find…" the spider continued.

When Stray had first come to them for help she was a bit scared of them, but they had proven to be extremely cooperative in helping get Gwyl back. They did refuse to help her raid the castle though, because of a prior promise that Aragog, their father, had made. The huge spiders, as large as elephants, made good allies, because they had smaller brothers and sisters which could find Gwyl easily.

Several more hours passed and the Wolf-Demon Stray was found perched near the edge of the forest conversing with two centaurs. "He'll not be relinquished easily," the elder of the two said. "They seem to think he's one of them and so they'll protect him at much cost to."

Stray nodded and looked to the smaller of the two who was trying to keep a guarded face, but emotion continued to leak through. "Don't worry," Stray assured the little centaur. "Gwyl is coming back with me."

Dia, the centaur, nodded and with the best resolve possible neighed.

"Here," the second, older centaur said named Shepaud, pulling a sack from the belt he wore. "Take these."

Stray dropped down to them and took the sack, removing its contents.

"The neck-collars are for protection," Shepaud explained, pointing out the matching jeweled necklaces that were in Stray's hand. "They're supposed to help protect you from getting trapped. One's for you and one's for Gwyl."

The monkey on Stray's shoulder chattered, examining the necklace for itself and holding it up proudly. Stray growled at it and the monkey returned the necklace to the big which she attached to her belt. Guinevere slipped out of the darkness and Stray smiled. It was almost time.

"Take care," Shepaud said as Stray ascended into the trees.

Stray didn't answer, but she did glance back one last time as the two centaurs disappeared behind her. They had offered to help, but she hadn't accepted, they were too loud on stone and she would need silence for at least part of the mission.

The pack was ready, waiting at the edge of the forest as near to the castle as possible. Stray had come to the conclusion that the easiest way into the castle, and the safest, was through the side door in the mornings. People exited early every morning, before the castle woke completely, and they would have the element of surprise behind them.

A quick snort and a growl signaled the pack into silence and Stray climbed further into the trees to rest next to Lancelot. Silver was the only one staying awake so she could signal when someone was approaching the door and awaken the rest of the pack. She had better sense about it as Stray had found out a few days prior.

A snort awoke Stray, Guinevere and Lancelot waited for her to move before moving themselves, dropping to the ground with her. Galahad wasn't far behind them; he'd been sleeping a little higher up though. The monkey's appeared into the trees and Stray stared at them, they weren't initially a part of her plan, but they seemed to be willing to help and ever wanting to. She raised her arm and one of them swung down to her, taking a seat on her shoulder as if commanded to.

The others followed the first, but stayed at the lowest branches of the trees. Only a few had overcome the fear of the leopards that followed Stray around. They didn't mind the wolves though.

Silver growled again and Stray's attention focused forward. It was later in the morning than usual, but it was still early and Stray didn't think all the humans would be awake yet. She growled to the leopards hoping they understood her well enough. While she didn't have Gwyl's sense of the wolves yet she seemed to get along with the leopards just fine, even though she didn't understand everything they did just yet.

The side door swung open and Stray launched herself forward as fast as possible. The door only stayed open for a few seconds and she needed to slip in during that time. The student who had opened the door stared, his throat dry, as the pack descended upon him. Stray was the first, knocking him into the wall hard enough to knock him unconscious before he could utter a word. The whole pack slipped in through the open door, along with several monkeys, some who'd taken to riding the wolves.

The students who'd woken early enough to see the sight were completely transfixed. Most of them saw what could only be interpreted as a nightmare as the odd mix of beasts poured through the hallways, trampling anyone or anything that was in the way. Stray barked order in the lead, keeping the majority of the pack with her as they headed through the castle. It was a long run, but spiders continued to appear and disappear ahead of her, helping her along her path.

Not one single person resisted, though it was simply because most of them had fainted away or hidden in the side halls as the pack passed by. The monkey on Stray's shoulder, who'd managed to keep its grip the whole time, chattered away to the others who were having an exquisite time riding the wolves.

Several small spiders showed up on a statue that had been described to Stray and she stopped there, looking at the stone eyes. "Terribly twisted toffee," she repeated as the large spider in the forest had instructed. The gargoyle statue moved to the side and Stray looked either direction, insuring no one had risen against them, before sweeping up the steps to rescue Gwyl.

Inside Gwyl was wide awake, waiting for Stray. He could feel and hear here from within the room and he was full of energy, even though it was only from the single plate of food he'd eaten. Remus had disappeared earlier in the night and not returned, so he was alone at the moment, which suited him just fine. All he had to do was break down the invisible wall and he was sure Stray could help with that.

When Stray came rushing through the door she ran to Gwyl in happiness, only to be repelled by the invisible wall. Gwyl was grinning through it, but hoping that Stray had some other means of breaking it down as she threw herself against it a second time. Instead of doing it a third time she stopped and sniffed the wall, placing her hands against it to feel it.

"Magic," Gwyl said throatily, growling a hello to the other wolves who'd come up the stairs with Stray. Even more wolves flooded the room as Stray continued to examine the wall until the room was packed with wolves. The leopards seemed to take their spots as guards of the door and the monkeys ran around the room, examining everything.

Stray stared helplessly at the invisible wall, unsure about what she could do. She had ridden to the rescue only to find that she couldn't get Gwyl out of the prison he was in. Angrily she looked around the room for something that might be able to break the wall, but she didn't recognize more of the instruments.

While the wolves for restless Gwyl simply sat, waiting. He noticed the necklace and the second belt that Stray wore and motioned towards them, hoping they might help. Stray shook her head, the second belt was Dia's, a sheath that was made to hold all the dirks that she'd let Stray borrow to help free Gwyl. But it occurred to her that the necklace, while it was supposed to protect them from being captured, might help. It was also magic.

Quickly she reached into the sack that Shepaud had given her and extracted the second necklace. Not sure what to do with it she japed it, jewel first, into the wall. There was a sucking sound, as if something were sucking the wind from around them, and the wall seemed to shiver into visibility and then disappear again. However it no longer seemed to be present at all. Gwyl leaped through, hugging and rolling around on the ground with Stray playfully, and happy.

He growled as he stood again, moving first to the desk and taking back the knife that had been taken from him when he'd escaped.

The gargoyle moved below, the grinding sound easily heard from the office above. Gwyl growled fiercely, wondering who it was, he wouldn't allow them to capture him a third time; he'd die fighting them off.

"Put it on," Stray said, shoving the collar into his hand. "It goes around your neck like mine. Shepaud said it would help protect you from magic."

Gwyl fumbled with the collar, trying to figure it out while Stray barked orders to the wolves. He paused to watch her for a moment, smiling happily. He knew she could be dominant, and he'd hoped one day to help her accomplish it, but she'd done it without him, which pleased him even more. He truly hadn't expected her to be so dominant so fast, but it didn't bother him in the least.

The men were talking and Gwyl could overhear them as he struggled again to put on his necklace, not quite sure how it went on. "It's the oddest thing," one man said and Gwyl recognized him as a small squeaky man he'd only seen just briefly the day before. "They can't have just disappeared. And it's not an attack on the students either, the school would have alerted us."

"I believe that it's another person come to save Harry from us. We can rest assured that they'll make it here sooner or later and it is better to make sure he is secured," the old man named Albus replied back. "I don't know who this Wolf-Demon is that's leading them, but there has to be some relation, the students who we've woken describe him with black hair and green eyes just like Harry, though some think it's a girl too. It must be the second demon that Severus told me about earlier in the week, I doubted its existence until now."

Gwyl smirked as he waited patiently, still fumbling with the collar; Stray was a Wolf-Demon now too. "They come now," Gwyl whispered moments before the door opened. He'd been listening to people come and go for the last three days and he knew how long it took someone to enter. The clasp finally connected and the collar snapped securely around his neck. He felt something pass through him, like a sharp wave of pain and then he opened his eyes to face his captors.

There was a startled gasp and the door started to close again, but the leopards leapt forward and crashed all of the humans to the ground. Gwyl wanted to hurt them, make them pay, but he was bruised still from whatever had happened to him when he was asleep, and the energy he'd received from the food was quickly leaving.

The wolves trampled the captors as Gwyl and Stray both dashed over them, leaping down the moving stairs and running out of the passage. A small body of students had started to assemble near by and most of them screamed as the gargoyle opened to reveal a sea of animals with their teeth bared. Gwyl howled as they slipped out of the room and into the hallways. He was almost free again and he was loving it.

Most of the students didn't even try to resist, they dove out of the way. In the dozen minutes since the wolves had ransacked the castle the first time, word was already spreading of them. No one wanted to be under their feet as they passed. A few of the braver students raised their wand-sticks only to have themselves either bowled down or to have the wand plucked from their hands by a chattering monkey, all of which seemed to find an intense fascination with the wand-sticks.

While Gwyl had not learned any of the monkey speech he'd seen that they were quite smart and it only took a single time to show the monkey that sat on his shoulder that he wanted the wand-sticks before it was running about in front of them taking wands and giving them to Gwyl or Stray. The few bits of magic that were actually cast did not even faze the two as they flowed through the castle. Their path changed twice by stairs that moved, and Gwyl almost jumped from one staircase, but he stopped because the wolves were with him and he wouldn't let them be captured because of his urge to flee.

The spiders showed them the way though, they made little dots down the paths to show that it was the right path, there were thousands of the little beasts that had infested the castle, and all of them intent on helping the pack escape.

The front door was their eventual exit, but it was blocked by several older humans, a few of which Gwyl recognized. He didn't stop at all, he just kept on running at them. None of the humans seemed to expect this and though a few of them got off curses, all of their wands were stripped in a matter of moments between the pack.

The outside called to Gwyl and he bound through the door, heaving a breath of the crisp air, and howling. The whole pack moved quickly towards the forest, but were cut off by the oddest things. Several of the students caught him off guard by attacking from above, on long sticks of wood that were flying in the air. When they got too close Gwyl and the rest of the pack attacked, knocking all of them from the sticks and relieving them of their wands, and on one boy's case, his hand.

Interested as he was in the flying sticks, Gwyl continued forward into the forest, wanting to be free rather than learning about the flying sticks. Spiders were waiting not far beyond the edge of the forest, dozens of them, all the size of large cars. They dropped around behind the fleeing back, weaving long thin strands of web across the front of the forest as a barrier to slow the pursuers.

Stray turned one last time as the castle died behind them and let out a long ear splitting howl into the air.

•


	16. Ashes

Chapter 16

• Ashes •

Freedom.

It was a simple word, but to Gwyl, it meant everything as he flew above the forest floor.

Shepaud appeared in the trees halfway home. "It worked," he said simply and Gwyl nodded once.

"They'll be looking for you now; they won't go away until they think you're dead or gone."

Gwyl nodded sharply, he knew exactly what Shepaud was trying to tell him, and he wasn't about to return to the castle and the humans. No, he'd have to leave his home and get far away from them where they couldn't find him. The forest was far too close to them.

"We must leave," he said with some feeling of regret. He wasn't sure exactly where it was they could go, but it was going to be a long journey.

"I have spoken with the council," Shepaud said carefully, "and they have asked that you come to council with them so that they may help guide you safely."

Once more Gwyl nodded, he appreciated the efforts of the centaurs a lot and he knew that one day he would have to repay them.

"Can we pack?" Stray asked from behind Gwyl. "There are things we need to bring with us."

"Dog? Silver?" Gwyl asked as he noticed they were waiting to move further on. He wasn't about to leave them behind, not after everything they'd gone through. The leopards were also something Gwyl was wondering if he could leave behind. He hadn't known them for all that long, but in some strange way they had become a sort of family. They seemed to think the same way about he and Stray as well.

"Will we be able to take the pack?" Gwyl asked finally, unsure if he could leave any of them.

Shepaud sighed, looking up to the sun that had risen almost directly above them, before he looked back to Gwyl. "Tomorrow night as the moon rises we will discuss all these things and more with you."

"We must go," Stray growled in an undertone. "We will come tomorrow evening and speak with you about leaving, but for now we must leave, the wizards will not be held back long."

A silent nod was enough for the pair of Demons and they swept past him like the breeze. When he turned they were already disappearing into the shadows of the trees.

Ahead of him Gwyl glanced to Stray. "We go home?" he asked and Stray nodded. "The centaurs say the wizards will not find us there even with their magic."

In the trees above, the monkeys followed chattering endlessly. Gwyl was happy; they were friends, and they had been extremely helpful.

Hours later, at the outskirts of the clearing, Gwyl stopped abruptly. Since his awakening, when he'd felt magic like a breath on his skin, he'd never felt magic like he felt it now. The castle that he'd been trapped in had been full of it, overflowing with it like a storm. That was before he had gotten used to it. Stray, Silver and Dog were all magic too, but a different sort than the castle; wand-sticks were the same way, they each had magic and all of them different, some stronger than others. Now, standing in front of his home of over two years, it felt as if there was a whirlwind sitting in front of him reaching out and trying to catch him inside it.

"Come," Stray said when she saw Gwyl pausing behind her.

Still Gwyl would not move forward. Carefully he sniffed the air and then opened his mouth. Magic flowed through the forest like wind, it was in the ground and the trees, in the water, but nothing like the warm wind that was waiting for him a step ahead… what lay ahead was too much to even think about.

It occurred to him that someone had changed it; maybe some wizard had come with his magic and found where he'd slept. The centaurs weren't always right, he had found that out, but he trusted them. They had told Stray that no wizards would come. It was a great risk to take and he wondered if perhaps wizards were waiting on the other side of the magical wall.

The feeling faded a little, as if his body was getting used to the magic that was in front of him. The faint echo of the magic that surrounded him already filled him again. A quick yip sent both Silver and Dog away on opposite sides, disappearing like shadows. Hidden, they checked to see if they could sense anything suspicious.

The breeze picked up ruffling his now soft hair around his head. Gwyl almost growled thinking about what they'd done to him, when he'd awoken from the first escape attempt he'd been completely washed and clothed, and he looked _human_, he hated it. It was unforgivable that they'd done, that they thought they could get away with it. When he'd woken he'd torn his clothing away in a matter of seconds, including the band, which had held his hair behind his head so it didn't fall into his face.

Silver emerged from the right side followed by Dog from the left, both yipped softly that it was safe. Gwyl nodded, taking a deep breath and stepping forward into the torrent of magic. Nothing changed at all, just a continued feeling of unease. Even though the magic bothered him he sniffed and found nothing out of the ordinary. With a rough bark he sent the rest of the pack on their way, he planned on greeting them properly later. Someday he would show his thanks to them.

Stray didn't say anything as Gwyl moved into the small shelter finding that his old bed had been untouched. When he lay down to get some sleep, Stray curled up next to him with a smile on her face. Gwyl didn't fall asleep though, not immediately, he was having a hard time dealing with the magic that he continued to sense. It surrounded them, ran beneath them, flowed around and above them.

Sleep did finally overcome him and for several hours Gwyl slept content while Stray was curled up against. Silver and Dog slept at his feet. It had been a long night and a long day for all of them.

•

The next day, as evening fell, a small pack of shadows swept along the forest floor and through the trees until they came upon the centaur herd's encampment. Dia was standing at the door waiting for their approach and it didn't take her long to notice them. She was one of the few that would have, and only because she was so used to them moving around her already.

"Gwyl," she said happily when she first noticed him. "Stray," she added as Stray moved next to Gwyl smiling.

"Ronan would like to see you after you've met with the council," she said quietly. "He believes he has some things that might aid you in your travels."

Gwyl nodded and stood upright, walking slowly into the fenced area. Stray snarled at the leopards, commanding them to be still and await their return. She barked at some of the wolves, giving them the same command. Dog and Silver followed though, unwilling to leave Gwyl alone even amongst friends.

The walk across the camp was almost uneventful, Stray noticed a few wandering glares but didn't understand them totally. Gwyl growled at them and the older centaurs kept their distance, knowing he wasn't one to be taken lightly.

When they entered the cave two young centaurs, acting more like escorts than guards, met them. Gwyl was relieved that he was being trusted to some degree, though one of the guards seem to resent him a little.

"We have convened this evening because it has been proposed that we allow Gwyl, the Wolf-Demon to pass through the pathway and pseudothyrumi to visit the domain of another herd. We have discussed our decision for many hours. The council has come to a conclusion of how we may allow for him to pass through the sacred gates."

Gwyl glanced around, looking at the same group of centaurs who he'd met months and months ago. Only two of them had smiles on their face, the rest seemed to show no emotion whatsoever. The one who had spoken the most last time, the oldest centaur, was one of the two who smiled. "It has been proposed that we send Gwyl and his mate Stray on a coming-of-age journey that they may become more than foals in the eyes of the herd. Such journeys have not been undertaken for many years, but their existence is not unknown and for one taking this journey, they may use the sacred gates as they see fit."

Still unsure of exactly what was happening Gwyl just waited, listening to find out exactly what the ruling was and how it applied to him. The sacred gates meant nothing to him, and he didn't understand why he would want to go through them.

A murmur passed through the crowd. Whispers came from the centaurs as Gwyl and Stray stood quietly in front of them. There seemed to be an argument for a few moments and then all was quiet.

"Having brought this proposal to the council, and owing my sons standing within the herd to Gwyl, I take responsibility for any claims against the two. If they were able to be adopted by the heard I would do so, for now I hope this journey is enough," the elderly centaur said. Gwyl blinked, confused. His son's standing, what did the elderly centaur mean?

More time passed, whispers continued until Gwyl began to get restless, he did not like waiting like this unless he was hunting. "The council has agreed that Gwyl and his mate may use the pathway as long as he takes an oath of secrecy."

"What of the pack?" Stray asked. "Dog and Silver will not leave us behind, nor Will Lancelot, Galahad and Guinevere."

Eyes were raised and one of the centaurs stepped forward and whispered an explanation. Gwyl could just hear what he was saying over the other whispers. Heads bobbed across the table that the centaurs stood at and the old centaur spoke again. "The two wolves that are of your pack will be allowed to go, the leopard cats will be returning to a more familiar place, they may go as well. You are however charged with their safety, you must insure they can survive before they are let loose. The jungle ahead is a much different place than the forests of this land."

Gwyl simply nodded his acceptance, he didn't want to let them go anyway, but they were also free to do as they chose. It was important that they had clued him in on where they were going. The word jungles meant something to him, though it was a faded memory, and he would be very careful until he became more acquainted to the new place.

"When you feel the need to return you may petition the centaur herd beyond the gates, telling them that we have accepted and welcome your impeding return," a second centaur added. Gwyl glanced at Stray, who nodded understanding, and he nodded as well, hoping that Stray would be able to explain it to him later on.

"All that is left is the oath of secrecy," the elder centaur said. Gwyl wondered briefly if any of the other centaurs spoke in more than just whispers, there had only been a few that had ever spoken very loud before, but then he realized it was a sort of herd rule, that the eldest would be the one to speak most of the time the same way that Ink was the one to be met when dealing with the pack.

For several grueling minutes both Gwyl and Stray repeated an oath, which said they would never reveal the secrets they discovered, and that they would not betray the centaurs to anyone. Gwyl didn't mind; he owed them a lot for what they'd done and Stray just followed his lead.

When it was done the elder centaur nodded, touched Harry lightly and spoke in his ear. "Firenze is somewhere in the jungles where you are bound for. Please find him and bring him home with you so that an old horse can see his son once more." Gwyl turned, surprised, but didn't say anything, just nodded.

The quartet left the elders and headed for the place where they had been told to meet Ronan. Ronan was not alone; Shepaud was with him, looking worried. Whatever it was that had gone on had caused a lot of contention within the herd. "We have some things for your travels." Shepaud said quietly, far from his usual self. Gwyl watched him without a sound as he turned and led the way down the path. Ronan took the end of the group, trailing further and further as they neared their destination.

The area was unnaturally dark and Gwyl tensed as he sensed heightened magic. But, he had become used to the forest and its magical surprises already. Wizard magic was different and he could feel it. Stray was like them in some ways, but she was a lot different too, so it was easy to distinguish them in Gwyl's opinion. Still, looking into the magical darkness Gwyl shuddered.

"It is a sacred and exiled place," Shepaud said, trying to explain to Gwyl and Stray why they were feeling uncomfortable. "Here is where the relics of wizards and muggles are kept. We do not partake of such worships, though we once did. Each clan has their own way of ridding themselves of such items, our herd hides them from the world."

Pausing, Shepaud entered the shrouded darkness. Stray and Gwyl exchanged looks, but followed soon after. Shepaud was one of the few centaurs who had gained their trust through his actions, Dia was the only other they both trusted.

Inside the light grew stronger and Gwyl had to catch his breath. Silver and Dog sniffed the air and then moved away from their positions next to the demons, taking their time in examining the room.

There was a small stack of things that were sitting in the center of the room, Shepaud moved directly to this pile. "We give you these gifts with the approval of the council, that you may be able to use them on your journey."

Each of them received a second belt. They were larger, with material hanging from them almost like a skirt, but not long enough to be trouble. Each was patterned differently, but made with the same dark material. "Dragons-hide," Shepaud explained as Gwyl looked them over. "They are designed to be worn with those..." he pointed out a small stack of what looked like shirts. "We know you've no need for clothing like that, so we only give you what you will use."

From a small bag Shepaud pulled small thin knives and handed one to Gwyl who examined it, testing the way it felt in his hand. "Good throwing knife," he observed as Shepaud handed him the small bag, which held several dozen of them. Gwyl nodded a thank you.

There was also a strange bag. Gwyl stared at it for a long time, trying to decide what it was for until Shepaud stuffed the belts and the smaller knife bag into it, and still there was room. Gwyl smiled, he would be able to fit his blanket in it as well. Shepaud offered Stray a quiver filled tightly with arrows, he knew she used the crossbow and though she made her own arrows, the centaur made ones were far superior. "These were made by centaurs and enchanted by wizards to help them last much longer."

The last item was curious; it held Gwyl's attention completely as soon as the cloth had been lifted from it. Shepaud took a moment before speaking; the swirling red and oranges enthralled him as well. "This was presented to the centaurs as a symbol of friendship from the wizards of the far east." Gwyl glanced over to Stray, who was also enraptured by the object.

Gold had been painted on top of the egg-object and it glimmered every swirl to make them even more enjoyable. "It has been thought of as a ball which inspires luck, and that is why we give it to you, to show that we wish you well on your journey."

Gwyl took the ball into his hands, examining it closely. He could feel warm magic seeping from it, and it touched him, reaching inside and making him warm as well. The ball was tiny, but it was beautiful, and Gwyl wanted to take it with him wherever he went so that he could always have the warm feeling with him.

Dia was waiting outside and Gwyl saw that she had been crying. "You're coming back, aren't you?" she asked as they neared her. "Firenze said he'd come back, but even after father went to look for him… they never found him."

Stray smiled and moved forward, wrapping her arms around the centaur. Gwyl didn't hug people regularly, but as soon as Stray had let go he also hugged Dia, he would miss her a great deal.

"Now collect your other possessions so that we may take you to Austri Silva."

Both of them nodded, knowing that the longer they stayed in the forest, the more likely the wizards would find them. Immediately they bound off, followed closely by Dog and Silver.

Entering the clearing for the last time, Gwyl had to stop and look around. He was leaving his home and it angered him slightly. However, the adventure of a new place filled his heart and made him tingle all over. There was an odd sound from the bag he wore over his shoulder and he slipped it from his arm, checking it.

It was odd, but the sack started warming extremely fast. Dog barked and then backed away, frightened. Silver stood, staring transfixed at the bag as it burst into flames. Stray seemed transfixed as well, not doing anything as the fire spread along the ground around her and through the clearing. Gwyl tried to step away from the flames but could do nothing; his legs seemed to have locked into place. Then, the flames increased even more, filling everything, the trees and rocks; even Silver and Stray seemed to turn into fire in an instant. Gwyl knew he too was on fire, he could feel it touch his skin, though it wasn't because of the burning feeling. The fire was magical, and burned inside of him as well as outside, but it didn't produce extreme heat, it was producing magic.

As quickly as it had started it was gone. Gwyl stared, feeling different, somehow worse, and yet better. Stray collapsed to her knees, taking deep breaths, and Silver did the same thing. In the background Gwyl could see Dog peaking through the bushes at the edge of the clearing, trying to decide if he was safe yet.

A small pile of gold-flaked ashes lay at the top of the bag that Gwyl had set down and when Gwyl moved the ashes moved as well. Curious, Gwyl pulled his knife from the scabbard and gently pokes the ashes that had been left behind until there was a squawking sound that made Gwyl jump back in surprise. He really hadn't expected anything to be alive in there. A tiny head poked out through the ashes and stared right into Gwyl's eyes. To Gwyl it was perhaps the ugliest thing he'd ever seen, bright red, almost pink, and wrinkled, but he stared at it unable to look away. It stared at Gwyl just as Dog had when they had first met, Gwyl smiled, knowing that it was not there to hurt them. For a brief second he wondered if it would be something to eat, but the bird opened its mouth and a soothing song left its beak, making Gwyl feel warm again.

"A phoenix," Stray said, as she was finally able to move forward. "It's just a baby."

Slowly Gwyl reached out for the head and it squawked awkwardly. Gwyl simply ignored the protests and dug it from the bag as slowly and as carefully as possible. He tried to replicate the squawk but was able to do little more than gurgle awkwardly. His efforts were not in vane, because a second later the small bird hummed a different tune, soft and beautiful, it made Gwyl feel really good inside. After considering what to do with the bird Gwyl decided to keep it instead of eating it. He liked the soft tune and he wanted to hear it over and over again.

The small bird trilled in Gwyl's palm and he smiled. "Ashes," he said, proclaiming the name to the three other onlookers. Stray smiled and when she offered her hand, Ashes was past on to her. She examined it thoroughly while it simply sat, quietly watching her. Then Silver took her turn examining it from Stray's hand. Dog was last, and he didn't seem to like the creature in front of him at all, not because it was dangerous, but because it seemed to offend him. When Dog growled a challenge to the bird Stray snapped it away from him barking back and making Dog lower his head in shame.

The whole scene went on without Gwyl's interruption and he was proud of Stray when it was over for asserting her dominance and not making Gwyl do it for her. Even if it was only Dog, she was still doing it a little at a time.

Not long after, the group returned to the centaur camp, Ashes was nestled in Stray's hands the entire time.

Shepaud was waiting for them at the entrance and he nodded a hello as they approached. He noticed that Stray was holding something and asked Gwyl with his eyes what it was; after all, the council had only made allowances for the wolves and the leopards. Gwyl turned gently, taking Ashes from her hands and then meeting Shepaud directly. "She born from the gift you give us," Gwyl said quietly, presenting the phoenix for inspection.

No one else was present, or Shepaud might have felt slightly embarrassed at his gaping.

"A phoenix?" he asked finally, after the surprise had worn off. "The egg was a real egg? And even after so many hundreds of years it was still born?" he gaped again then gingerly reached out to stroke the tiny bird. "This is a great day," he whispered quietly. "Gwyl you must take care of this bird as if it were your own child, a newborn phoenix is naturally a good beast, but it is also easily corrupted. Keep it safe from the outside until it has grown enough to escape on its own."

Methodically Gwyl nodded, he had planned even more – he wasn't going to let the Phoenix go at all until it had been trained properly. It would be a free animal after that, but Gwyl hoped that it would return of its own free will. All of his family had, Dog and Silver, Stray, Lancelot, Galahad and Guinevere, there was nothing stopping them from leaving.

"You will need to be careful what you feed it too," Shepaud whispered. "Find a clean spring for it to drink from and only feed it freshly killed meat. Many foods do more harm than good for Phoenix's; they may end up poisoning the beast. When it learns to perform magic itself, it can find food, but you will be responsible until then."

Stray laughed lightly. "We will be careful with Ashes Shepaud," she said when Gwyl and Shepaud glanced at her. "I am well aware of what a phoenix eats and will insure it is cared for as well. It was a great gift you honored us with and we thank you," she added, bowing slightly. Gwyl would have liked to bow, to show his thanks, but he rarely did it; besides, he was carrying Ashes and the backpack they'd been given.

"It is time?" he asked, trying to get on with the process, it was getting light and every moment longer was one more moment that the wizards had to find him. He refused to be caught by them again.

It didn't take more than a moment for Shepaud to understand why Gwyl was pushing – he bowed slightly and turned away. The walk was quiet and Gwyl watched the forest move, touching every tree he could, he would miss their whispers.

•


	17. Seth

Chapter 17

• Seth •

It was dark, and they'd been walking for dozens of minutes. It wasn't a hardship, but Gwyl felt uncomfortable walking with so much magic pulsating around him. It had gotten better than it had been a few minutes before – but it was still there, pulsing like a heartbeat. Raising her head, Silver sniffed the air and Gwyl sniffed as well, realizing what she was smelling.

Air, the stiff air that had filled the cave was no longer stagnant, it was flowing around them. New smells started to enter Gwyl's nose, things he'd never smelled before. There were also strange noises and warmth against the skin. As he heard a hissing voice from beyond the cave he started to walk in that direction. Everyone else followed his lead.

"It isss my kill, my right to feassst upon it firssst," the voice said and Gwyl stepped forward, growling for the others to stay where they were.

Another voice hissed a response and Gwyl's eyes narrowed. Whatever they were speaking sounded familiar, and he understood it, but somehow he knew it wasn't normal words. Something tugged inside Gwyl and without thinking he marched forward into the light of day.

"Stop," he commanded; then he to stopped as he saw what he faced. They were two of the largest, and meanest looking snakes he'd ever seen. Most of the snakes he'd run across were tiny and simply went on their way, but these snakes could gobble him up whole. His right hand slipped to the handle of his knife before he thought anymore about it. Then he waited for what would come next; possibly battle for his life.

Both of the snakes seemed startled at his appearance and even more stunned that he'd spoken to them. One of them coiled its 30 meter body, shrinking to become a large pile. Its head started bowed to Gwyl, but the second snake hissed as he did. "He isss an intruder, do not bow to him – kill him."

The snake that had spoken started to move forward before it stopped suddenly. Gwyl didn't move, but he felt the necklace he still wore from his escape flare up with some sort of magic – a white hot heat that startled him. The first snake remained still, waiting for something while the second one hissed and slithered a few feet backwards.

"It isss jussst a child," he said and then moved back and forth, as if trying to decide whether or not to attack.

Gwyl waited for a minute, but when the snake did nothing more than hesitate he spoke again. "We come to live here. Shepaud say centaurs waiting for us."

The second snake stopped moving, then, glancing to his companion asked. "Ssshall we get the herd?" the bowing snake finally moved, nodding just slightly. The second snake disappeared into the brush, moving faster than Gwyl could follow with his eyes.

"We are sssorry for the trouble." The first snake hissed apologetically. "We were not informed of visstorssss."

Behind him, Gwyl could hear the others rustling impatiently, he knew Silver would want to come to his aid and even a direct command might not keep her there if she thought trouble might be coming. "Wait here," Gwyl hissed and then returned to the cave, disappearing into the darkness. When he exited the cave again, Silver and Dog where both at his side while Lancelot, Galahad and Guinevere flanked Stray.

The snake seemed disturbed, but waited until the group had fully come into the clearing in front of the cave. "Thisss isss a ssstrange crowd," he hissed to Gwyl. No one caught sight of the tiny spider that scuttled out of the darkness and into the trees beyond.

Not sure how to respond to the snake, Gwyl stayed quiet until the snake spoke again. "What isss your name?" He asked Gwyl directly, not addressing any of the others in the pack.

"Gwyl, the Wolf-Demon," Gwyl responded immediately. "This is my pack."

"Demon?" The snake hissed. "I do not underssstand."

"Wizards call me Demon," Gwyl replied. "It is because I kill them when they come into the forest."

"What is your name?" Gwyl hissed back, trying to be polite, he'd learned it from Firenze and had always tried to use everything he could remember."

"My... name," the snake hissed, almost as if it wasn't sure how to answer. "We have no names, we simply are."

"May I call you by a name?" Gwyl asked back, it was easier for him to talk in this language. Whatever it was, it just came naturally to him.

The snake paused, looking over Gwyl again with a somewhat intrigued gaze. "You would call me by the name of my choosssing?

Gwyl simply nodded, but the snake bowed. "We have been told ssstories of those who can ssspeak the language but I never imagined one to be ssso kind."

Kind? Gwyl shuddered. If simply asking one's name was kindness he wondered what their lives were like.

"What isss a name you might call me?" the snake asked.

Shrugging Gwyl thought for a minute. "Whatever you'd like. There are many names I could call you. My pack each has different names, Stray is my mate," he said, pointing her out. "And the wolves are Silver and Dog." He continued pointing out the two before moving on to the leopards. "And there is Guinevere, Lancelot and Galahad. Each has different names, so that I can identify them."

The snake looked between the group and then back to Gwyl. "How were they named?"

"Dog was named Dog because he is a dog, but I can not name you Snake because there are many of you and it would not be different. I named Silver because her color is silver."

"Name me becaussse of my color then."

"You're the same color, are you not?"

"How where the others named?"

"Stray named the leopards and Stray was already named when we she came with me." Gwyl explained.

The snake turned to Stray, eyeing her. Stray of course ignored it as much as possible, but the huge eyes where hard not to look at, even if she tried. "Would ssshe name me?" the snake inquired with a sudden hiss.

Stray shivered, and Gwyl suddenly noticed that she could not understand what they were saying. He realized that this disturbed her. She hadn't said anything about it yet, but it was because Gwyl was speaking it as well – or at least that was the best he could think of. Dog and Silver seemed to be able to restrain themselves as well. However, none of the leopards were able to be calm about it; they were pacing back and forth, snarling quietly when the snake looked towards them. Gwyl decided they must be familiar with snakes and didn't like them.

"Snake want you to name him," Gwyl told Stray, who was quickly loosing the dominant streak that had filled her. She was definitely scared of the snake, at least a little.

"Name him?" she asked, relaxing slightly. "It looked like he was deciding which of us to eat."

Gwyl snickered. "Is good snake, other snake mean."

"Yes, well I had noticed that too, where did he go anyway?"

"Get centaurs, they not say we come." The snake hissed and Gwyl sighed. "Give snake name?" he asked.

Rubbing her hands together as if warming them, Stray smiled. Gwyl smiled too because Stray was getting used to the snake and he really didn't want to make it go away. It seemed quite friendly and though he didn't take to most animals quickly, he was in a new place where he was the stranger – it would be good to make a friend.

"Well, he's a snake obviously, and he's green with large black spots... but that's not exactly uncommon I think. The other one looked almost exactly the same, could have been twins. Still, he's quite sensible if he wants a name. Why doesn't he have one anyway? I don't want to name him without knowing him, I mean, that's not exactly the best way to figure out a name."

"Not care for name before, all snakes just are, no need for name. Now we need to name because he is going to be friend. Need name to call."

"Yes, yes," Stray said as she thought of names. It was obvious what she was doing, she seemed to act more like a human when faced with a problem. Gwyl didn't say anything because he didn't want to anger her, but it was something he wanted to be done with before the other snake returned – he had a feeling that they're would be an objection. The snakes were so different that he'd rather have them separated.

"What about Seth?" she asked finally. "Seth the Snake would sound good."

"Seth," Gwyl repeated in his head.

When he tried to say the name in the snake language he had a hard time pronouncing it correctly, and it came out half English. "Would you like to be named Seth?" Gwyl asked.

The snake thought about it for a moment, closing its eyes and trying to repeat aloud. Finally it opened its eyes again and nodded. "Ssseth will do," he hissed, making the name sound even more foreign than the original. "It isss a good name."

The snake, Seth, slipped out of its coil and made a wide loop around the pack, causing the leopards to crouch and snarl. Gwyl quieted them as best he could, but their fear was too great and it only partially worked.

"Ssseth," Seth repeated once again as he returned to his spot. "I am named Ssseth."

Proud that they'd made a new friend – even if the leopards did not like him – Gwyl smiled, sitting on his haunches to wait.

A few minutes later something slipped through the trees on the left and Gwyl shifted positions slightly, ready to face whatever was coming. A large snake appeared, likely the same one that had left a few minutes before, but Gwyl could not tell. Both snakes in front of him looked identical and he wasn't sure if snakes looked different at all.

"They come," the snake whispered and then waited in silence, again acting much different the Seth.

No one spoke, but there was no silence, the forest was alive with sounds that Gwyl could not identify. It wasn't just animals that made sounds – it was everything. The place was different. Here, the forest sung a soft whispering on the breeze that was heard even without trying to listen. To Gwyl it was calming and a little disturbing. He'd never known of trees that spoke without his touch. Shepaud had warned that this forest was different than the forest Gwyl had lived in, and it was suddenly becoming apparent how different.

Closing his eyes Gwyl tried to focus, and he could see that the magic was different too; it was more like a burning feeling instead of the warmth from the old forest.

"They speak," he heard Stray whisper, "the trees, they're louder than I've ever heard."

"Yesss," Gwyl hissed, loosing himself in it as the song seemed to overwhelm him.

Silver nudged him several minutes later and Gwyl focused, hearing the approaching hoof beats. The first centaur through the brush was one Gwyl recognized. Gwyl opened his mouth only to have it silenced by a quick movement of the centaur's head – for some reason he didn't want Gwyl to speak.

"They fear you," Seth offered when more of them appeared, all armed and looking a bit wary. "They wreak of anger, be careful of them."

The other snake snapped his head in Seth's direction, his eyes glittering menacingly. Gwyl knew exactly what he'd call the other snake if it asked for a name. He even decided to refer to it as Glint unless he was told otherwise, that way he could keep the snakes separated in his mind.

"Why have you come here?" A young, brash looking centaur asked. His coat was brown and white, and his skin, a chocolate brown. But his eyes were dark, almost black, and he looked angry. "Your kind is not welcome to use our caves as you choose."

"I am Gwyl, the Wolf-Demon," Gwyl said, not forgetting to make introductions even though the centaur was angering him. It helped to know that they were afraid of him. "The elder Chefmith has given us permission to use cave." Gwyl tried to find the words, but instead looked to Stray who knew what he wanted.

"We have been given permission by the Elders of the Trani Herd, Chefmith himself took responsibility of us. We only seek refuge from the Humans who seek us. When they have quit hunting us we will return," Stray said, stepping forward and taking her place next to Gwyl.

"Do not fool yourself human, we can plainly see you are human as well," the centaur snapped.

Gwyl bristled, but tried to stay calm. He rose from his hunched position to face the centaur. Even if he was only half the centaur's size, he was quite obviously formidable. "I not Human," he said, trying to keep from snarling. "Centaurs give Gwyl name."

"We have been given titles as beasts of the forest. Both of us despise humans and what they stand for."

"Be careful," Seth hissed again, and Gwyl's eyes traveled along the pack to find one of the centaurs had loaded his crossbow.

Glancing around at the dozen centaurs that had come, Gwyl wondered what was going on. "Seth," he hissed, "Why do they fear me so?"

The centaurs gasped and stepped back, all of them, they didn't seem to like the snake-tongue that Gwyl was speaking.

"There has been a great conflict recccently," Seth hissed back, ignoring the centaurs. Glint however didn't seem to like Seth speaking and he moved forward, snapping at Seth. Seth returned the favor and for a moment they were at odds, their giant heads weaving back and forth, causing Gwyl to get irritated.

"How could you let one sssuch as him forccce a name upon you!" Glint said and Gwyl growled. He'd done nothing of the sort.

The centaurs took another step back. Gwyl could see them do it from the corner of his eye. More of them loaded their crossbows, but most were quiet, too scared to do anything.

"He forccced nothing," Seth hissed once Glint had backed down, obviously not able to win the fight. Gwyl had noticed that Seth was slightly larger, and could move much quicker. "I asssked for a name and wasss given one. My name isss a matter between Gwyl and I."

"He will not be forgiving," Glint hissed, then angrily turned and slipped into the forest even quicker than he had before. Gwyl was amazed at how quick and silent they were, he was going to have to get used to them before he could feel safe. Seth coiled again and then bowed.

"He holds one of the great snakes at his will," Dia's father said. "I told you he would not be someone you could simply rid yourself of. He is not human; he is a beast and holds great power. Do not make him an enemy."

One of the centaurs lashed out with his hooves, Gwyl noticed it coming, but Dia's father didn't. He was driven to the ground before he could move. "Do not attempt to make threats on this herd," the centaur said as Dia's father struggled to stand again. He'd only been hit once, but it was a vicious strike and without any warning – Gwyl thought it was too much, but didn't say anything for the moment.

The centaur looked to Gwyl once more with a scornful look, daring him to say something.

"Seth," Gwyl hissed. It was enough to make the centaur step back and raise his crossbow angrily.

"You will speak to me!" the centaur demanded. The other centaurs spoke to each other in the background, but in a different language – one Gwyl did not understand.

Seth moved closer to Gwyl, as if taking his side, his large head dropped down next to Gwyl. The Leopards moved away, hissing angrily. Stray snapped at them and they quieted much more than they had done when Gwyl ordered it.

"The herd has been at war," Seth hissed quietly. "The eldersss have been replacced and the old waysss changed. The conflict ended yesssterday."

It didn't take Gwyl long to figure out what had happened. The new leaders, whoever they were, didn't like the prospect of Gwyl being invited over – or perhaps it was because the old elders had been the ones to allow it. They were changing things, and anything of the old way was not their way. He wondered briefly why Dia's father was still there, why he hadn't gone home?

Bowing, Gwyl looked to the centaur whom, he supposed, was one of the elders – one of the new leaders. Then he turned to Stray, speaking quietly. "Big fight. New leaders, they not like us. Need to become friends still, so we go back home."

Nodding, Stray looked to the centaur and bowed again. Gwyl could see her mind processing the information. Eventually the concept of what was happening dawned on her and she looked up from the bow. "We are aware that there has been a change in the leadership of the herd and would like to ask the permission of the new elders to enter the territory. We do not wish to fight, nor do we wish to return to be captured by the humans. We only seek peaceful relations." Gwyl nodded, happy that she'd been able to say everything he wanted to. Dia and Shepaud had really helped her learn some new ways of speaking; he was a little envious of the ability.

"We may have once been human, but we have given up that title, it is better to be a beast than a human." Stray continued.

Her comment surprised Gwyl, something must have changed in the time that he'd been imprisoned, something that made Stray realize she wasn't just pack – that she had once been human. It made Gwyl shiver; he didn't like the thought of her knowing. Even though she despised the humans, he didn't want her remembering her life before, not now and maybe not ever. The thought that she might leave was frightening to him. He was content now; except for the humans chasing him, life was perfect.

"You will always be human," the elder said spitefully. "No matter how much you try to change, you will forever be a human in body and spirit, we will not allow you passage to our lands, nor will we allow you to enter the caves again."

All of the centaurs except Dia's father raised a crossbow – Dia's father was unarmed, and he seemed there against his will. He bowed his head as if to say he was sorry. Gwyl hissed and instantly the snake shot forward, snapping at two of the nearest centaurs. The leopards shot forward too, forgetting the qualms they had with the snake. The pack came first for them. When they saw the weapons and realized the pack was in danger, snake or no snake they would fight. Gwyl pounced onto the nearest centaur using his knife to wound the bucking man-horse.

"You must leave," Dia's father said as Gwyl leapt from the centaur he'd put down. "The herd here is quite large, you will stand no chance if you kill off their leaders, they will seek revenge and follow you to the ends of the jungle. Leave now! I'll try to calm them as best as possible."

Knowing what he was up against in angering the centaurs of this place, Gwyl slowed and nodded. A hiss pulled the snake back and another bark brought the rest of the pack – even the leopards understood the retreat order. Gwyl headed towards the cave but Stray shook her head.

"They'll not work until we understand them," she said. "We must learn about them so we can go home."

Gwyl nodded regretfully and they veered to the side of the caves, moving into the forest. "Where we go?" Gwyl hissed to Seth, hoping he might know a place where they would be safe from the centaurs. Seth took a moment to respond and then turned again, taking a different route. "We will go to the wolf village," he said. "They will listen."

•


	18. Kangon

Chapter 18

• Kangon •

The wolf village as Seth put it, was actually a real village. As Gwyl was sitting in a tree looking down at it, he realized that he was half right about his assumption. They were part wolf, like Remus had been, but they were different than Remus as well as every other human that Gwyl had ever met. The village wasn't very complex at all, a few small wooden structures that reminded Gwyl of the hut he'd tried to make, but given up on and some caves in the cliffs that the village was up against.

There were only a few humans walking around, and every single one of them was a werewolf as far as Gwyl could tell. He wasn't positive if all of them were werewolves, and he wasn't about to get any closer to find out. It was lucky enough that they were downwind when they'd approached or their presence would have already been known. Gwyl had been cautious – but not cautious enough.

"They are werewolves," Gwyl hissed to Seth, who was curled around the tree below him. Stray was next to him, but the wolves and leopards were a little further behind them, where Seth didn't bother them as much. Even though he wasn't a threat as they'd originally thought, the leopards still didn't like him much.

Seth nodded again, slightly confused. "You are not one of them?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Gwyl turned back to stare at the village. "They are human, I am not human; I am pack."

"You look human, you do not look like a wolf," Seth pointed out. "You sssmell like... wolf, but you do not sssmell like human. I thought you were one of them. I am sssorry."

Putting away the anger, Gwyl continued to watch, he was curious about their odd behavior. They were not acting like humans, it looked like they were getting ready to feast. He could smell the scent of a kill and there had been a call for all the pack to come in. Most of them had scampered out of the cave. Several adults came out, but most were pups. Few wore more than just a piece of leather hung around their waste or over their shoulders. Most of them had grown long hair, but had tied it back like Stray had once done.

When the food was brought from the hut where it had been kept Gwyl noticed that it was only partially cooked, some of it was still raw. They were not eating like humans either. He did not understand how these wolves could be so different. Remus had acted just like a human; the food he ate, the movements he made, even his speech, yet these werewolves acted more like pack. They howled greetings and ate their food nearly raw. They're movements were much smoother and quicker; Gwyl knew he'd rather not fight these wolves. They were much different than the humans.

Something growled behind Gwyl, something near Dog. Gwyl leapt from his branch and grabbed for another, swinging higher into the trees where he could move better. Stray was close behind him. Seth stayed simply because Gwyl ordered it. As he moved beyond Seth's sight, he didn't want the Leopards hissing and trying to fight; it might give away their position if it wasn't compromised already.

As it turned out, it didn't matter. The wolves and leopards were being attacked by three of the werewolves who seemed to have snuck up on them. When they got there, Dog had been injured badly and Silver was fighting one of the werewolves by herself while the leopards were fighting the other two.

Gwyl was enraged, even though they had been the ones to invade the werewolves' territory they'd meant no harm by it, and had done nothing to elicit anger.

Growling, Gwyl dropped onto the nearest werewolf, the one fighting with Silver. As he dropped he pulled his knife from its holster and before the wolf could react he had it pressed against the wolf's throat, growling.

"We have done you no harm," Stray said, dropping in front of him, whip in hand, and ready to use it on the others. "Call off your men."

The werewolf seemed surprised, and looked to the other two who'd been fighting with him, both who'd faltered and been pinned by the leopards. Stray snapped at the leopards and they backed away, furious that they weren't able to finish off their prey.

"We not so good English," one of the men lying on the ground said shakily. "Need get ... jefe... eh... big man."

"Need translator?" Stray asked, a little confused at what the werewolf was trying to say. The man nodded quickly.

"Gwyl?" she growled under her breath, seeing if he approved of letting one of them go.

Thinking for a minute Gwyl nodded. "Go," he said brusquely, still holding the knife to his prisoner's throat. "Fast."

The werewolf who'd spoken stood slowly, edging around the snarling leopards and took off at a run directly for the village. "They not understand?" Gwyl asked Stray once the man had disappeared. She shook her head.

Nodding, Gwyl pushed the werewolf in front of him to the ground with some difficulty. He growled for Silver and she limped over, having hurt one of her legs. A second growl and Silver put her mouth around his neck as Gwyl pulled the knife away. "I go watch," Gwyl said and with a leap disappeared into the trees.

The two werewolves were more than just frightened; they'd never seen such a sight before. The beast that had attacked them was tiny – almost as small as one of their pups and yet in only a moment it had incapacitated one of their own and turned the fight around in an instant. What bothered them most was that he had appeared, like a ghost, and then a minute later had disappeared almost as fast.

Gwyl had a hard time catching the man who'd run off, but he caught sight of him before he entered the village. The man was so scared he ran right past Seth without even noticing the huge snake. Gwyl thought it was stupid, even when being afraid, one should always watch their surroundings.

The sight of one of their own, running scared and alone, surprised the already gathered pack. Gwyl watched as one of the werewolves spoke rapidly in a language Gwyl could not understand. One of the men, who'd stood immediately upon the wild entry, nodded his head and three more werewolves stood with him. There was a quick bark of orders and two of the men sprinted off to the right, Gwyl knew exactly what they were doing. The three remaining werewolves (one of them being the man who'd returned to get the leader) headed towards the path where Gwyl was hidden.

"Seth," Gwyl said, turning to the snake that had not moved since he'd been told not to. "Go to the pack and stay with them until I come. They are trying to ambush us, so watch carefully, alert them if someone is coming."

Seth nodded and uncurled himself from the tree, slipping down the path before the three wolves appeared.

As quickly as possible Gwyl took off after the other werewolves, they would not sneak up on his pack without him having something to say about it. The two were difficult to catch, they ran almost as fast as Gwyl, but they were not on a path and Gwyl was among the trees, where he had a much clearer path. He did catch up to them and had his rope ready when he did. The werewolf in the rear never knew what hit him. One moment he was running and the next something caught him around the chest, flung him into the air and slammed him into a nearby tree. Regretfully the capture made noise and the second wolf turned in time to dodge a rock that Gwyl had flung at him.

The wolf slipped into the underbrush, looking to the trees because he had judged where the rock had come from extremely accurately. Gwyl moved fast enough to escape his site, but he was sure the werewolf knew he was there. As quietly as possible Gwyl circled around, moving to the tree where the other werewolf had been flung. He was half-conscious when Gwyl slipped down beside him, which amazed Gwyl, but he wasn't conscious enough to realize Gwyl was the enemy. Before he could speak Gwyl had struck him in the back of the head, knocking him out completely. He checked over the man, making sure that he had no wand-stick, though he doubted it. Then, once he'd done that he laid the man out and tied him up with thin vines that had been surrounding them. Gwyl doubted it'd last if the werewolf awoke, but it was the best he could do.

The other wolf had moved when Gwyl made it back into the trees, his capture over his shoulder. So Gwyl dumped the man between two branches, wedging him in, and then moved around again, looking for his target.

The wolf was good, he had hidden in a clump of brush that looked to small to hold him, but he wasn't perfect, and Gwyl caught his scent and eventually got a glimpse of the werewolf. Still enraged that they were trying to sneak up on his pack, Gwyl let two rocks fly, one after another, trying to severely damage his opponent. The man was quick though and dodged both just from the sound they made. There was no way he could have turned fast enough to see them. Gwyl grimaced; he was going to have to do something different.

Slipping down to a nearby tree, Gwyl hooked his rope onto some bushes, and then he moved back into the trees, wrapping his rope around different branches as he did. He scampered along through the trees, keeping out of site, and dropped down opposite the wolf, giving himself a good bit of room. He yanked his rope several times, making the bush opposite him shake. Like he had planed, the werewolf turned away from him. Gwyl waited a moment, letting the wolf focus on the bush before shaking it again.

Immediately the wolf was sprinting forward, trying to catch Gwyl, but Gwyl followed along faster. He sprang to a tree, used his weight to throw himself over the attacker and whipped out his knife, burying it in the leg of his opponent. The man fell, screaming inhumanly, and Gwyl had another knife in his hand instantly, ready to attack.

The movement of the man had made the attack twice as bad as Gwyl had thought it would be, and he could see that the man's leg had been slit well open because of the movement of the knife. He wasn't going anywhere. Grinning Gwyl growled and shot forward, ripping the knife from the man and then heading back towards the pack after getting his bearings.

When Gwyl dropped from the trees he could see that the leader had just barely gotten there, he seemed a little tense, as if he knew his men hadn't made it and Gwyl growled to Silver, warning her that the man may not have good intentions.

Stray had been introducing the pack, but stopped and looked to Gwyl expectantly. Ashes was sitting on her shoulder and Gwyl smiled at the bird, happy it had finally quit sleeping – it had slept through the whole journey in a small box on top of the bag they'd been carrying. He growled a warning again, then hissed it so that Stray understood as best as he could make her. Seth was curled up at the edge of the pack directly across from the leopards, watching carefully.

"Thank you Seth," Gwyl hissed once he'd caught his breath and eyed the men. "I caught the others."

Seth bowed slightly, and then turned his eyes back on the group. The leader of the wolves was staring at Gwyl, wide-eyed, not scared, but extremely startled. Gwyl wondered why so many people did not understand him talking to snakes, but put it to the back of his mind.

"You attack us," Gwyl growled in English to the man. "Why?"

"He is your leader?" the werewolf asked Stray directly.

"He is Gwyl," she answered back.

Not caring for formal introductions, Gwyl growled. "You talk to Gwyl!" he snarled at the man. "You send men to attack us and then we want talk and you send more men to hunt us."

"You saw that did you?" the leader asked, a little surprised, but more worried now. "Where are they?"

"In jungle," Gwyl growled. "Leave alive."

"If you kill either of them..." the man said in a warning tone, the edge of his voice almost a growl.

"They hunt us, so I hunt them." Gwyl replied simply. "Still alive," he added with a smirk. "Hurt, but alive."

The man looked stunned, even more so than when Gwyl had spoken with Seth. He looked to his men, one of which was still in Silvers jaws, and then back to Gwyl. "We are sorry," he said quietly. "we do not usually receive people in this area, and animals are well aware of our hunting grounds and stay clear of them. When they come, we must make them leave, we did not mean any harm to your pack, nor did we mean any disrespect."

"We did not come to fight," Stray said, pulling the man's attention from Gwyl for a moment. "But you injured us..." she paused as the bushes rustled. Two men came limping out into the path, one barely able to walk and using the other as a crutch. Gwyl bristled; he'd hurt the men brutally. They shouldn't be able to stand, let alone walk, but they were there, beaten, but still walking.

One of the men spoke loudly in the same language that the men had spoken earlier. The leader listened until the man had finished and then turned to Gwyl. "You did this alone?" he asked, hesitantly. Gwyl nodded.

The man seemed flustered, as if he couldn't decide exactly how to react, but he finally closed his eyes, sighed and looked directly at Gwyl. "Your grievances are just, we attacked you without warning, you are new to this area and do not know territories or laws and you were coming to us to talk. We offer you a place to stay and food to eat while your wolf heals."

Stray nodded her head to Gwyl who wasn't sure what to say, he didn't like humans, but they weren't just humans either, they were pack and acted like pack most of the time at least.

"Seth," Gwyl hissed. "Can these werewolves be trusted?"

"Yesss," Seth responded, unwinding himself slowly. "They are well ressspected within the jungle."

Nodding Gwyl turned to Stray, giving her the faintest nod. She understood of course, but waited. With a yip, Silver released the man lying on the ground, the leopards backed away from the pinned man and Gwyl sheathed the bloody knife he'd been holding. Both of the imprisoned men backed away slowly, one of them with teeth marks lacing his neck, blood dripping from a few of them.

"We accept your hospitality," Stray said stiffly, holding her hand out. The leopards slipped in around her and the werewolf leader watched as Gwyl moved to Dog, who had been trying to keep from whining, he touched Dog gently, finding all his wounds, and then lifted him.

"You have healers?" Gwyl asked, easily holding dog in his arms even though Dog was nearly the same size.

"Yes," the man said. "We do."

The village was a short walk, but Gwyl had been running around for almost an hour and wasn't up to taking Dog the whole way. Partway there he slowed and one of the werewolves offered to take Dog, Gwyl snarled at them though, only giving him up when Stray growled her disapproval and took Dog herself.

The village was a little uneasy when Gwyl entered flanked by Stray, Silver, Guinevere, Lancelot, Galahad, and Seth. They saw their leader following close behind and some seemed a little relieved, others seemed even more nervous about the newcomers. "You may place him on the table," the leader said as they neared an empty table at the center of the encampment. He barked a few harsh words and someone rushed forward, while another person ran off into the cave, presumably to fetch something or someone.

Most of the villagers seemed frightened of Seth more than any of the other newcomers and Gwyl turned to him. "Can you wait at the edge of camp for a while?" he asked Seth.

Seth nodded and turned slowly, moving lazily into a shaded area of trees where he was protected from the sun. Gwyl smiled and turned back to the villagers, he didn't like them very much, but they were much better than normal humans. He would have to deal with it until Dog was healed. He was also glad that Seth had become such a friend in a matter of hours, saving them of a blood bath more than once already, simply because of his threatening demeanor. It wasn't that Gwyl trusted him completely yet, but he trusted him a great deal more than anyone else he'd met so far.

"You control the snake?" the leader asked near Gwyl, his voice not in a whisper, but still just as quiet. Gwyl nodded, he was having a hard time dealing with the man, partly because he was human, and partly because he wasn't human. To Gwyl he hadn't vocally challenged his Dominance, but he had tried to undermine it and now still seemed unable to accept it. Had there not been a village of werewolves that might attack him, or had Dog not been so badly injured Gwyl might challenge the wolf right there.

"He is friend."

"He helped us get away from the centaurs when they threatened us earlier." Stray said, moving to Gwyl now that someone was taking care of Dog. She was still glancing that way, almost afraid to let Dog out of her sight. Gwyl was not afraid for Dog though, he knew that the pack was part wolf, and they were honorable to some degree, the leader had promised to heal dog and would do it.

"Stupid centaurs," Gwyl growled. "Want to kill because old centaurs allow us to come."

"The old elders knew of your coming?" the man asked, surprised.

Stray nodded. "They overthrew the elders and want nothing to do with the things the elders taught. Though we had nothing to do with them other than we had been accepted to enter these lands... well they greeted us with a great deal of hostility. Seth told us to come here, though he obviously was mistaken."

Someone growled and the leaders head snapped to the voice, the growling stopped. "I must truly insist we meant you no harm, we did not realize that the animals had companions, we simply thought they were hunting on our grounds."

"Wolf and leopard hunting together?" Stray snapped, as irritated as Gwyl was.

"Yes, well, those who saw them thought it a bit strange, but did not inform anyone else, they simply took it upon themselves to drive out the animals."

The werewolf who'd disappeared a few minutes before came running out with a cloth and, irritated, Gwyl went to see Dog being treated. He didn't want to be around the humans, or talk to them, but he knew he could not help heal Dog as well as they could, so he had decided to accept it at least until Dog was healed well enough to leave with them.

One of the rags that the werewolf was holding remind Gwyl of something that nipped at the back of his mind, something he'd seen before. They used the rag to dab at Dog's wound and then they used another to place a green substance of some sort onto Dog. It was the smell of the elixir that helped Gwyl connect it with the memory. He too had once been almost as beaten as Dog. It was when he'd fought one of the spiders that was attacking the pack. The potion smelled exactly the same as the one that had been used on him. As the lady went to use a third rag Gwyl snatched it from her, sniffing it, and then looked hurriedly towards the cave. He _knew_ that scent.

Completely catching everyone off guard, and before anyone could stop him Gwyl hurdled the table and darted towards the caves.

Several people where hot on his tail as he entered them, but he kept running. "Firenze!" he yelled several times, trying to catch the scent of his friend again.

He continued deeper, getting into an area where it was almost completely dark and he yelled out again, but this time there was an answer. "Harry!" the voice said and Gwyl could hear the trampling of hooves.

A torch was lit and Gwyl saw that there were several Centaurs, most of them quite aged, standing in the back of one of the side caves, the only one that was moving was Firenze, who looked peaked, but rougher than Gwyl remembered.

They hugged for a moment and Gwyl broke away. "Not Harry, Gwyl now, Gwyl the Wolf-Demon. Herd give new name."

"Well, growing to quite a spry young colt I see," Firenze said happily. "I hear you've cleared my name."

"Firenze save Gwyl, Gwyl save Firenze."

Several of the werewolves that had been chasing Gwyl rounded the corner, some of them armed. "It's alright," Firenze said then turned to one of the other centaurs. "Tell them Gwyl's a friend of mine."

The werewolves had almost surrounded Gwyl when one of the other centaurs spoke, using the same harsh language that the leader and the rest of the werewolves spoke with. The werewolves backed down and several of the centaurs stepped forward.

"You are Gwyl?" one of them asked astonished. "The one who was sent by Chefmith?"

"Father sent you here of all places? What was he thinking?" Firenze moaned, tugging on his ears. "This is the worst place he could have sent you. Why did he do it?"

"Humans hunt Gwyl and Stray."

"Who's Stray?" Firenze asked curiously.

Remembering that Firenze had never met Stray Gwyl turned sharply and let out a bark that echoed through the caves. It took a few minutes, but she appeared. Gwyl was speaking to Firenze about the evil wizards when she arrived.

"Stray, this Firenze. Firenze, this Stray." Gwyl said. Firenze seemed astonished at her appearance, and even went so far as to reach out and touch her hair.

"You're almost a mirror image of Gwyl," he said in awe. He smiled when she nodded furiously and then something dawned on him. "You're a girl!" he exclaimed when he noticed that she was clothed slightly different.

She nodded just as happily, excited to finally meet Firenze, Gwyl's second friend from the forest. He started to say something, but looked to Gwyl and stopped.

"You must return through the caves, go elsewhere, it is not safe here, the herd seeks us."

"They elders?" Gwyl said, pointing to the other centaurs that were watching, fascinated. Few of them spoke English, but they simply conversed between themselves or had one of the elders translate who did speak English. It didn't take long for the whole story to unfold, how there had been a Centaur who'd been abolished from the herd because of his outspoken ways, and he'd taken several with him. They didn't all go though, and after almost a year had passed the centaur had returned with a dragon on his side, easily vanquishing the elders who stayed and fought. The rest of them had fled and found refuge here, in a place where the new leader would not look to find them.

Apparently Dia's father, whom Firenze called Dammel, had stayed to keep track of what was going on, and keep the elders informed. He had been unable to find Firenze when he'd first come and would not leave until he did. The problem was that Firenze was hiding with the werewolves too, long before the young centaur had returned, he'd spent a good deal of time learning about them and their life. Since he'd been cut off from the centaurs he had decided to make the best of his life outside, that had been why he'd come to the village.

"Kangon took me in," Firenze explained, pointing out the lead-werewolf who'd been listening for quite some time. "He helped me keep hidden when the centaurs came looking, I did not know they wanted to do anything other than to kill me. I had disobeyed the herd's rules and when I came to this land I was looked down upon. I knew it was only a matter of time before they decided it was best to not let me live in misery."

"You are the young man he speaks of in his stories," Kangon pointed out. "Had I known such a thing I would have welcomed you with open arms. You are kindred, though how you have become such without becoming a werewolf I do not understand. Even we cannot simply speak with the wolves of the jungle, few as they are, we rarely see them."

"Scare them off," Gwyl said, "kill them, they not come."

"Harry!" Firenze exclaimed harshly and Gwyl growled, partly at his own name and partly at Kangon who was staring at him.

"No, he's right," Kangon said, meeting Gwyl's stare and growling a warning. He knew the challenge, and though he didn't want to kill the boy he wouldn't back down.

Gwyl moved quicker than Kangon could and there was a knife that caught the edge of the cloak Kangon wore, it buried itself into the shelf that Kangon had been standing next to, splitting the clay in half, and bringing a row of pottery down on Kangon's back. Two of the men who'd followed Kangon drew weapons, one of them a sword and another a tiny rod that looked harmless, but Gwyl doubted it was.

Kangon held out his hand and the men withdrew. "I deserved that I suppose," he said after he'd stood again, not angry by any means. He pulled his cloak to the side, revealing the cut that he'd received, it had barely caught his arm in the movement, but it had cut him still. Gwyl was surprised he'd taken the attack so well. "It is customary to allow you to show your anger at me through other means, but that will do." To Gwyl's even greater surprise the wound was already healing, mending itself almost as fast as the blood flowed.

"You have never encountered werewolves?" Kangon asked as he saw the astonishment on Gwyl's face.

"Not hurt them," Gwyl said quietly, watching still. "They move fast, strong, have good senses, not see heal."

"Then you have encountered our brethren."

"Not like you," Gwyl said quickly. "Wizard, Human, not like wolf."

Stray, who'd been quite up to now explained. "Gwyl met a werewolf in wolf form once, helped him escape wizards, but the only werewolf he's known that looked like you was a wizard and acted very much human. He was able to do things humans could not do, but he was very much different from the werewolves who live in this village."

Gwyl nodded, he'd spoken to Stray, mostly in English, but in the wolf language too, explaining what had happened while he was in the castle. He was happy she'd understood how it had happened so well.

"It is a shame there are those who have been given the gift and hide who they are," Kangon said. "It is much harder when you do not accept who you are."

Someone approached and murmured something. Kangon nodded and then turned to Gwyl. "Food has been prepared for your pack, it is available when ever you would like to eat." Gwyl nodded, he was hungry, and the food that their pack had been eating earlier had reminded him briefly of that. Now was a good time to eat.

The leopards and Silver had found a place near Seth to rest. It was in the trees and out of the rain that had started to fall. It wasn't far from the caves and Gwyl marched out to them, happy to see that the group was getting along. He was sure the leopards realized that Seth was the lesser of the two to be afraid of, even if he was an enemy to them. They rose to meet him and Gwyl sent them to the caves where Stray waited, standing over a pile of large fish. The leopards tore into them without hesitation, as did Silver, Gwyl was happy that they were being fed, but he turned to Seth, concerned. "Do you need to eat as well?" he hissed.

Seth raised his head, yawning bearing a row of teeth that looked anything but friendly, he seemed to have been half asleep. "No," he hissed in return. "I have eaten my meal for today."

Gwyl nodded and then returned to eat with the rest of the pack.

•


	19. Antagonists

Note: Not completely beta'd. I released this because I am feeling really impulsive today. I am still waiting on it from one person and then I'll be beta'ing and re-uploading it myself.

Chapter 19

• Antagonists •

Firenze was more than a little excited to see Gwyl. Over the next few days he told Gwyl the stories of his time in the jungle and Gwyl told Firenze about his many experiences. Gwyl found them very interesting. Firenze had had a great many things happen to him, just as Gwyl had.

Then, Gwyl took his turn. It seemed very interesting to most of the younger werewolves. They congregated, one by one, into the large cavern where the centaurs listened to Gwyl's stories. Even some of the elder pack members approached and spent time listening. Gwyl actually did very little of the storytelling. Instead Stray did much of it, as she seemed to be a natural storyteller. Since Gwyl had told her most of the things he'd been through and seen she could explain them much better. It turned out that most of the younger werewolves could understand English, though many had trouble speaking it. Kangon tried to teach them all, but the little ones where the ones who usually listened.

The centaurs were different, all of them knew English. Gwyl suspected this was because they were elders and from what he'd seen, the elder knew many things. What captivated them the most was Harry's experience in the 'magical wizard castle'. Gwyl had explained it very thoroughly to Stray the night before. However, when she explained it, things had been greatly exaggerated. Some of the younger cubs held their breath when Stray leapt from the ground and made a cutting motion, showing the fight with the empty armor. Then, they gasped when she explained him being cornered in the dungeons, without a way to get out.

During the storytelling Ashes was held by the werewolf cubs. All seemed to have a great reverence concerning her. She seemed to be almost worshiped, and it made things easier because Gwyl didn't have to worry about her health as much. They loved it when she would trill her song and often times Stray would pause from her stories to listen as well.

Kangon watched from the shadows. Gwyl could smell him even though he tried not to betray his presence. When the third day of stories had finished and the pack members were out getting food Firenze spoke with Gwyl about what had happened with the herd after he was gone.

Then, finally, after four days Firenze revealed a secret. "Do you know Bane?" he asked quietly.

Involuntarily Harry's eyes thinned, the expression was gone almost instantly, but Firenze had caught it. He hadn't been around Gwyl for a year without picking up a few things from him.

"You've changed Harry." Firenze pointed out. Gwyl knew Firenze was still getting used to calling him Gwyl, so he didn't mind the slipup of the name. In fact, Firenze was probably the only individual in the world who could get away with calling him Harry.

"Not change much," he retorted.

"See, even that is different," Firenze said, smiling softly. "You rarely spoke at all. You didn't even have a pack, you only had Dog."

That wasn't true, not quite. Silver was with him then, but he had also been living with Ink's pack at the time, so she was not really a part of his own pack then. Stray returned from checking on Dog and smiled, curling up next to Gwyl. Of course Lancelot, who followed her around the camp with unwavering diligence, settled in next to her.

"You now have another wolf, three leopards, a phoenix, and …" he glanced to Stray, who was already asleep. She'd been having trouble sleeping lately, but now she was so worn out, sleeping in the cave didn't even bother her. Gwyl leaned over against her and listened to her breathing, a soft rumbling sound coming from her. He smiled, she was purring.

"She is mate," Gwyl said quietly once he'd looked back up to Firenze.

Firenze nodded, but looked ready to ask another question. Gwyl suspected he wanted to know more about Stray. He had refrained from asking for a long time already. Finally he sighed. "Where did she come from?"

Gwyl stared at Firenze, trying to decide what to say. He could tell Firenze he stole her away because they were friends before, but how could he explain the accident? Firenze very much disliked magic, all centaurs did. Well, except Dia, but she didn't tell anyone she found it fascinating.

Then, he glanced to Stay and sighed. "She just come."

Either it was enough for Firenze, or he realized that he was pushing it too far, because he returned to the former subject rather quickly. "And a snake of course," he added.

Seth had not entered the caves at all, even though he hadn't been banned from it. The other pack members didn't seem to take to him as well as they accepted the leopards and wolves. So, Seth thought it best to stay outside. He was very comfortable there as long as he was near the stream. Gwyl spent much time with him when it got dark and many of the wolves slept. They had had many discussions about the things of the forest.

"He not pack," Gwyl stated. He was beginning to realize that pack didn't mean wolf, it meant something more like family. But, even though he trusted Seth he knew Seth was not pack. He had his own pack, and a mate even (Seth had told Gwyl how pretty her scales where one night). "He friend."

There didn't seem to be any further explanation needed. "The centaur who caused this war is Bane."

Looking beyond Firenze, Harry saw the elders, most of who were resting. Most centaurs slept during the day and stayed awake all night so that they could watch the stars. It was in the late afternoon, so a few of the younger elders were awake. They kept to themselves though, trying to keep from interfering in the conversation. Gwyl knew they could hear though, he could see a few of them had quickly turned away at the name.

The silence continued, a few of the werewolves wandered past the cavern, going on to their own caves or to some other business that was theirs. They had gotten used to the centaur presences and Gwyl's pack as well. Though, to some Gwyl represented a threat because of his refusal to submit to others. Gwyl had overheard a few of the younger werewolves speaking badly about him, talking about how he ate their food without restraint and took whatever he wanted. Gwyl had not bound in and challenged them because he knew that they were bickering, as humans did. He had learned a few things in the castle. If they were to challenge him he would accept, but until then he would only watch them.

"He came to this herd not long after you first appeared in front of the elders of my herd. When he came…" Firenze paused and turned his upper body, raising his left arm. Underneath it, just below the armpit, was a pink scar. "…he tried to kill me."

A furious growl rose up from Gwyl's throat and Silver entered into the cave, ignoring the chattering cubs that had been teasing her. She looked around for trouble and, seeing none, yipped and exited again. Gwyl looked away from her, knowing she was right. It was times like these, when she scolded him, that he wondered which of them was dominant. She did live in his pack, but occasionally instead of protecting him she scolded him like a pup. It hurt more because whenever she did it he knew she was right.

When the cubs resumed playing with her Gwyl turned back to Firenze. "Why not kill Bane?" he asked plainly.

Firenze looked to the ground. "I was not prepared for the attack. Bane was once a close friend but he has become overwhelmed with anger. He is not the same Bane I once knew. When he came to me he showed no signs of anger, he offered friendship until my back was turned and then he struck."

"Be friend, but not be friend?" Gwyl asked, astounded. He couldn't understand why someone would say they were friends, but be enemies. All his enemies had always been enemies, and all his friends had become his friends and never been anything different.

•

As night fell and Gwyl stretched, feeling up to a run in the jungle. He had been out a little bit, but hadn't gone far from camp, not yet at least. Even with Seth with him (Seth could almost keep up even at a full run) Gwyl was hesitant to go far. The jungle was much different from the forest back home and he needed to get his bearing before he took off a lot.

Now, he was fairly well versed with the area. He knew he could find this place without too much difficulty even if he was separated from Seth. Stray stood when he did but Gwyl shook his head. She had been awake most of the day keeping an eye on Dog, but Gwyl had slept on and off.

Silver was waiting outside, a few of the cubs were taking turns riding on her. She was a big wolf, and they had difficulty crawling on even when she lay on her stomach, but she was quite gentle. Even the mothers didn't mind her after the first few days. Gwyl barked and Silver fell to her stomach, the children scattered. While Silver was playful around the children most of the time Gwyl wasn't, or he ignored them. Even though most of the children found him fascinating they kept their distance.

The older werewolves, the ones Gwyl thought acted like yearlings, thought of him a good deal different. Most of them were older than him, likely between 12 and 16, and they were much more vicious. To them he was a threat to the pack, at least to the males. The females viewed him with interest though. He was new meat, but he was also dominant.

Now one of the younger yearling females approached him. He'd seen her before. She was a bit of an outcast to the yearlings. The tattoos on her face made her stand out a great deal, and none of the attention was good attention. Still, she was strong because of it. She stood her ground, which was very good. "You going… out?" she asked with difficulty. Her words were broken English and Gwyl could tell that she could not speak it even as well as he could.

Surprised that the yearling was even talking to him Gwyl looked at her intently, not sure what to make of her. He shrugged, not really answering, but indicating he was. She had already strongly suspected he was, and he didn't feel there was any point in actually talking about it.

"I… go with?" she asked. Her tone was one of submission, and Gwyl was caught by it. None of the other werewolves had been submissive to him at all, none of them except the pups.

Gwyl spun on her, more surprised. He sniffed the air, looking for some signs of her being in heat, but found none. He wasn't sure exactly how to answer. He wasn't against it, but Seth was coming so she'd have a difficult time with him, plus he wasn't sure if she'd even be able to keep up. He shrugged again but this time she seemed to take it as a bad sign and turned away. Gwyl growled and his hand shot out, grabbing her before she could step away. He spun her around and looked her in the eyes.

"If wolf want go, wolf go," he paused, waiting to make sure she understood. She needed to be strong, he didn't want her submissive, especially if she was going to try and befriend him. He didn't befriend those who were too weak to care for themselves unless he had plans for them. She did and nodded, but he wasn't finished. "If want be strong do what want. Not let others control."

When Gwyl saw her eyes flicker with comprehension he let her go. "Seth come, not be afraid. If want come, keep up." Then he moved out into the trees, with Silver following and the girl, who had yet to be named, keeping up.

Seth was looking distraught when Gwyl reached him and Gwyl cocked his head. "What's wrong?" he hissed.

The huge snake uncoiled and raised himself up. He'd been there for well over a week now and Gwyl was sure he'd been eating properly, but there was still something wrong with him. "It'sss my mate," he hissed in return. "Ssshe isss ssstill with the nessst."

"Then you must go to her," Gwyl hissed. "You are welcome with my pack, but it is not your nest. Thank you for the help you have given me."

Seth seemed reluctant to leave, but he finally nodded and took off into the darkness while Gwyl watched.

The yearling moved forward, a little startled. "Snake not go?" she asked.

Gwyl shook his head. "Seth return home," he said. He stared at the yearling. "What name?" he asked finally.

"My name is Tala," she said, bowing slightly.

"You keep up?" he asked. It would be nice to have someone run with him, especially since Seth was going elsewhere. When she nodded Gwyl pulled himself into a branch of the trees. "I run high," he said and then was moving.

The night forest was more awake than the day jungle and Gwyl loved it. It was so different than the forest he was from. So much more life filled this jungle. He couldn't move past more than a tree or two without seeing something he hadn't seen before.

Occasionally they would stop when Gwyl found something extremely curious. Tala would try and explain it as best as possible, but to her most of the things were normal. Birds, animals, plants, all of them were completely foreign to Gwyl and became stranger and stranger the longer they ran. Occasionally they would stop at some tree and Gwyl would touch it listening to its happiness or sadness, but listening. All of them spoke different, instead of whispers their voices were like soft melodies, and Gwyl understood why the forest had sung to him when he'd first come. They seemed much more aware too, and many expressed their gratitude for him listening before he moved on.

Tala was curious about his frequent stops that seemed for no reason, Gwyl knew that the werewolves couldn't hear the song, and he wondered why no one listened. Still, he didn't tell her, if she couldn't hear it there was really no point, not yet. Perhaps if she listened she'd be able to hear it someday, but it was not the time, not yet. First she had to prove herself a friend.

The last stop was a turning point, it was Tala who stopped. It was an open area of the forest, which was quite unusual – the forest was extremely dense and rarely had open areas as large as the one that they were in now. Tala lay down and stared at the sky. Gwyl, who was naturally curious, lay on the floor next to her and also stared at the stars. He didn't do it much. Firenze had always told him about the stars and that was enough for him. Here they looked much different from home though, the whole night sky had moved around.

"My father… out in sky." Tala said after a while. "Father's father says that he is … star. Shine bright at night for me."

Gwyl looked at the stars again, curious. He wondered if people could become stars and if such a thing were possible if animals could become stars as well.

The return trip went faster, Gwyl stopped less frequently, mostly to keep track of the path they took so that he could return to some of the trees he'd listened to. Stray eyed Tala curiously as Gwyl entered the cave again. Kangon approached and Tala left with him, tail between her legs. Gwyl wasn't sure what she'd done wrong, but he would hate to be a yearling that was going to get punished.

"Who was she?" Stray asked once the werewolves had left.

"Tala," Gwyl replied simply. He didn't understand any further need for explanation. Stray watched him, slightly confused, but said nothing.

•

Two nights later Gwyl was running once more with Tala. The night before Stray had followed him, but had barely been able to keep up. She hadn't adjusted to the sleeping schedule during the day. Gwyl hadn't exactly adjusted; he just didn't need to sleep quite as much most of the time.

They took a different direction through the woods. Though she wasn't leading, Gwyl got the distinct impression that she had a good idea about where they were going.

As it turned out they ended up running alongside of a large valley that cut deep into the otherwise flat area. They had almost circled it, but Gwyl couldn't see any way to enter. Nor could he tell what lay below, the tree foliage was so thick in most spots and slightly taller in others so that no matter where you looked from you could not make out anything except the telltale signs of the edge of a lake through the trees.

Tala did stop for a while, and Gwyl wondered if she'd been down in the valley before, but he put it out of his mind. He did memorize the route home so he could return should he feel the need.

For the next couple weeks things went smoothly. Tala quickly was made out to be Gwyl's friend and seemed to lose any standing she had amongst the yearlings. Few of the werewolves liked him except the pups, and even they would keep their distance when their mothers were around.

Gwyl was able to explore the jungle until he had a solid grasp of what lay within a nights run. He had slept away from the cave for a few nights, but only when Silver or Stray were with him. The jaguars seemed content to stay near the cave, but often would disappear from sight during the day to sleep in the trees.

Dog was healing, but slower than normal. Firenze pointed out that it was likely because of something he'd eaten before the attack, something that had cut down on how well his he was able to heal. With the help of some of the werewolves that had befriended the centaurs Gwyl and Stray were taught what plants were edible and which ones weren't. Silver seemed content to watch as the centaurs taught from their knowledge. Many of the animals Gwyl had seen were collected as well, and one by one Gwyl learned the species name and some of the attributes. He was amazed to find frogs that were extremely poisonous. They were odd looking frogs, brightly colored and they smelled funny, but when one of the werewolves demonstrated the potency of the poison on a captured animal Gwyl was floored.

"The muggles that were native to this region used this poison on rare occasions when they were extremely frightened," one of the old centaurs explained. "It is considered a form of magic to them, and they use it sparingly. But, there are other poisons they use that are not as destructive."

"Muggle live nearby?" Stray inquired, curious. Gwyl calmly stroked Ashes, who was perched on his shoulder. He tried not to think too hard about the division between humans. He had gotten used to humans being divided between wizards, witches and muggles, but it was still a little confusing. He was sure that there was something that set them apart, but the only thing he could decide was that wizards used magic. He wasn't sure why muggles could not use magic, magic was everywhere, but he just let it go, in hopes that someday it would be explained. It wasn't really all that important anyway, they were still humans.

"There are a great many muggles that have come and gone from this region. There are still a few scattered tribes. They do not come this deep within the jungle, they fear the magic that may come upon them."

"There are wizards to then?" Stray continued, eager to hear more.

The old centaur looked to another, one of the oldest of the lot. His brown hair had turned a dull grey color and his coat had formed small dark spots. He stepped forward, finishing off the piece of meat he'd been gnawing on. "There is much magic within this place. Many have come from afar just to study it. The tribes are not without their shaman –what you might call wizards – tribesmen who have a great knowledge of the magical arts. There are a few who even wander this deep into the jungle to seek out magic and its mysteries. Some know of us, of the werewolves, and of other magical creatures that reside within the boundaries. There are others who come, witches and wizards who do not understand the forest for what it is. They come and tell us of their laws which we are enslaved under, rules that we must obey. They do not stay, for they are afraid of the forest."

Gwyl understood most of what the centaur he said, but couldn't quite understand a further distinction thathad been made about the humans. He called some of them shamans, but also wizards, he said they were different than many humans, but then he said that there were other wizards who were not so different from humans. They were filthy, lying, frightened humans who felt the need to be in control.

"Shaman like werewolves?" Gwyl asked, trying to piece together everything. While he wasn't that taken with the werewolves he could see a difference between them and humans, and he could make dowith werewolves.

"Yes, I suppose in a way they are like the werewolves here. They have different feelings towards nature and the magics. They believe it a sacred art, and do not anger the stars. They are the best that humans can offer, even if the human race is foolish and weak."

When the old centaur said this Gwyl couldn't help but glance around. He had made some comments about humans in the camp before and they had not always gone over so well. Even though Kangon tried to tell the pack that they were not human, that they were wolves, many did not hold to that belief.

"The shamans cannot be werewolves though." The centaur added on a side note. "There is one among the wolves here that was destined to become a shaman. Her village was destroyed by werewolves who had lost their abilities to control themselves. It was utterly destroyed. She survived, only to be given the burden of becoming a werewolf. Her grandfather, who was away at the time, brought her here so that the pack could take care of her. He is a great shaman and it is a shame that she can no longer learn the arts and study with him. She has lived here for many years."

Firenze nodded, catching Gwyl's eye. "Many of the pack have been brought here as outcasts or found their way here with great difficulty. Some have come when they heard the call during a full moon, some come because they hear rumors. Some," he slowed, picking his words carefully, "are found and brought here."

"Yes," a third centaur added slowly. He looked pale and thin. Gwyl could tell he had once been a great stallion, though his age had gotten to him since that time. "Some are born here as well. But all have come to seek out sanctuary from the outside world. All want a family that they can rely on."

Something moved behind them and Gwyl swiveled, finding the cave had begun to rumble. He reached out and steadied himself against it, only to pull back startled. The walls had come alive, whispering to him. He had listened to it before, but it was muted and hardly perceivable, nothing like now.

Effortlessly Gwyl was on his feet, crossing the cave they were sitting in. The entrance rumbled and Gwyl moved faster, angry. He could hear the singing of the forest dying, as if someone was place a barrier between it and him. He growled again, and noticed that none of the werewolves were present. Silver was at his side moments later, having felt Gwyl's need. Ashes squawked indignantly, holding on to Gwyl's shoulder for dear life as he darted through the darkened cave paths. Her claws brought blood to the surface and it glistened darkly as it streamed down his body.

Gwyl slid to a stop inches from where the entrance to the cave had been. Now, it was nothing more than a solid wall of rock. He growled, angrily, hating that he was trapped. Stray appeared behind him, almost unable to stop as well. She slid into Gwyl and they all tumbled to the ground. Silver growled and pawed what had been the opening, sniffing around.

"Trapped," Gwyl snarled, sniffing the door next to Silver. He wasn't searching for the same thing, he was trying to feel for magic. But the cave was alive with it magic. It swirled around Harry like a warm wind. He moved again, trying to find something specific, but it just warmed him, filling his magical senses, keeping him from tasting anything specific. "New magic," he said. It wasn't really new, but he hadn't felt it before, so it was new to him in a sense.

"It is not new magic," Firenze said from the darkness. He had approached slowly, following Stray after she and Gwyl had burst from the cave they had all been sitting in. "This thing is for your protection, so that the werewolves will not endanger us."

"I go out," Gwyl insisted. He had been well aware that the full moon was coming and wanted to get in a fight with a werewolf in wolf form so that he too could change into a wolf. He'd even spoken to Kangon about it – who was quite adamant in warning Gwyl against it, citing that he did not know what he was getting himself into.

"There is no way in or out of the cave once it has closed, it is a security measure to keep us from endangering ourselves."

"But what if a werewolf is trapped inside," Stray pointed out, seeing the loophole immediately. "It could not get out. It would be a danger to those inside."

"There is a cave where it would be attracted to. It would fall into the opening and be unable to remove itself until the sun has risen once more," Firenze said, keeping it simple. He was looking at Gwyl with an odd interest, but did not say anything of it.

"Kangon said he would tell you of these things, and yet it seems he has forgotten."

"Not forget," Gwyl growled menacingly, slashing at the wall. "Not want Gwyl become wolf. Afraid not strong."

"I do not think he sees you as a risk to his authority," Firenze said, turning and moving back down the path to where the other centaurs were. "I believe he feels the need to spare you from the pain of becoming a werewolf. It really is not a great treat."

Gwyl growled one last time, finding it hard to be mad at a rock wall. He would speak with Kangon when morning came. Perhaps he would see who was stronger.

•

Thousands of miles away a werewolf whimpered and curled up into a semi fetal position in a room at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Albus Dumbledore watched him through a mirror and nodded when he saw the potions effects had worked. "Severus, you have done a wonderful job," he said, speaking to a man who was sitting across from him. "The potion seems to be working exactly as it is supposed to."

Severus Snape sneered. "And I am to be complimented for it? I think that all werewolves should be rounded up and thrown in a magically reinforced kennel."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I am aware of your opinion on the subject. And yet, you brew such a potion for the one we have living at the castle."

"Must we go over this again?" Snape asked snidely. "There are much more important things to talk about."

"Has there been word?" Albus asked, peering over his half moon spectacles. His eyes seemed frozen mid-twinkle. It maddened Snape to see such a trick, and it maddened him more to know that it worked on so many people. Twinkling eyes… it was infuriating.

"No," he responded when he realized he'd waited a bit to long to answer. "Nothing has come up about him. There is something else to discuss, something you've no doubt noticed lately through your channels of communication."

"Ah…" Dumbledore said with a sigh. "Yes, there is the difficulty with the Centaurs."

"Has there been a formal inquisition to find out what's going on?" Snape asked. He'd heard whispers of a centaur rebellion in the works. There were rumors of wizards being caught in the crossfire of a battle between centaurs in Greece. There were other rumors, people spoke of beasts going crazy and attacking their keepers when centaurs were nearby. Most of it was gibberish or garbage dredged up by scum who were only looking for a free drink, but there is always some truth within rumors.

"No, one was mounted, but it was driven off before they could approach. A wizard was even injured in the exchange," Dumbledore said gravely. "We do not believe it originated in Greece, though it would not surprise me. Still, it is relatively isolated to a few herds. I do not believe it is time to worry yet. Still, we must discover the truth behind the rumors before this thing escalates. It has taken them a great deal of time to gain acceptance amongst the magical races. I do believe this will set back much of what has been gained over the years."

"What are you planning?" Snape asked, eyeing the old man. His eyes narrowed, but he held back any emotions and sealed his lips. He knew that it was not his place to ask, nor was it in his best interests. If he pushed it he knew he could easily become one of Dumbledore's personal investigators.

Dumbledore smiled, as if the moment before had been lost and he was now in a peaceful moment. "We must send out some observers to see what we can discover about the centaur rebellion. I would hate to see it escalate into a full blown war. Some of the more far-reaching members of the governments are trying to use this as an excuse to attack the centaurs or take control of them through much more physical means."

Snape nodded, he understood what Dumbledore wanted, but he would not be pressed into such a situation without a fight. "Why not send the werewolf?" Snape asked. "His insistent searching for the feral child is getting on my nerves. It would be best for him to be sent elsewhere so that he can grasp the truth – that he'll never be able to find the beast."

"I would appreciate it if you did not refer to Harry as such. What has happened to him was a series of unfortunate incidents. It is a wonderful thing that he lived, and since you are as much to blame as anyone I would think you would have better thoughts dealing with the child."

"I had nothing…" Snape started, but was cut off.

"… to do with him running off, no. But, if he were with his parents, I very much doubt that this would have happened."

"That has no…" he paused and looked away. Then, with a swirl of his cloak he headed towards the door.

"Severus, I apologize, I was only trying to get across a point. Do not hate Remus for trying to find Harry. He feels it is the only thing he can do to redeem himself for what has happened. Even the escape did not alter his course, I doubt that I would be able to convince him to leave behind his search."

"Then I will convince him," Snape growled and raised his wand to the door, which would not open. "Now let me leave or I'll force my way out."

• Updated 2004.10.11 •

Authors Note: This chapter took a while yes. For everything that reviewed – thank you, it means a lot to me. I'm still thinking about the werewolf matter. My beta is giving me a difficult time about it, even put up a poll in my yahoogroup. If you haven't left your opinion on the subject I'm letting you know that I'm keeping it open for the moment. It won't be decided for a couple more chapters. If you've changed your opinion after reading something in those chapters let me know. For those of you wondering Gwyl will be an 'alpha' wolf no matter what. It'll probably take longer if he becomes a werewolf, because he'll have to overcome the problems he'll have as a werewolf. Not all of them have been brought forward yet but I'll start hinting at them. Believe me, silver and full-moon's aren't the only 'difficulties' werewolves have in the Hidden universe. So now that I've demonstrated what is happening in the Wizarding World (more than you think in this chapter) who wants Remus to come and save Gwyl?

Oh, and btw 100 reviews. I am astonished. If you want a good response to your review make sure to leave your email, if the review is thoughtful I'll probably send you an email or IM you. I actually had to track a couple people down last chapter because there profile didn't have a review and I wanted to talk to them.

Yeah. For those of you who don't know about it I have a yahoo group where you can ask questions and get an answer in a reasonably amount of time. That's also where I keep review responses when I get around to it for this chapter. So! Until next chapter. (I _promise _it won't be as long – especially if I get such a good review response)

One more thing – I have an AU C2 Community, if you're interested join up. If you're interested in being staff let me know and I'll add you.


	20. Shapes of the Mind

Chapter 20

• Shapes of the Mind •

When dawn approached, Gwyl was at the entrance of the caves, waiting. He knew Kangon would return.

The rock that covered the entrance slid to the side, and Gwyl shivered as the caged feeling disappeared. He knew now that he was no longer trapped, so it was much easier to stay in the cave.

The sun was rising, cresting the jungle canopy and lighting up the pack of werewolves that were near the cave entrance. Most of them were sitting, looking dazed or tired. A few of the younger ones were asleep, or within moments of falling asleep. There was a small group of them near Kangon that didn't seem tired in any way. There eyes watched warily as Gwyl sprinted out of the cave, roaring in anger and then as he stood and growled a challenge to Kangon.

Kangon, who had been bent over one of the yearlings, ignoring Gwyl for the most part, stood and turned slowly. His eyes, still an amber color, blinked, but showed no surprise. Something edged along Gwyl, traces of magic that slowly began building. Gwyl sniffed the air as a burst of the magic flowed off Kangon and struck Gwyl full on.

Gwyl shuddered for a moment, feeling the magic fill something inside him, as if there was a hole for it to go, and then he growled again, angry that Kangon hadn't responded to his challenge yet. Kangon looked surprised, as if the magic should have caused Gwyl to back down. Finally, he blinked again, and his eyes were the color of the trees, a faded brown. He leaned forward and snarled, accepting the challenge.

Twenty minutes later, inside the largest cavern, the werewolf pack had reformed. Most of them were awake still, but they looked more tired, as if they were about to pass out. All of those who'd been asleep were either awakened or carried in. Since Gwyl had issued the challenge, it had been Kangon's choice as to where it was to be held. Kangon seemed to like the idea of fighting inside the cave even if it wasn't Gwyl's preference. The cave likely gave Kangon an edge, but Gwyl didn't care. He simply wanted to kill Kangon for insulting and caging him again.

Once the pack had assembled, Kangon moved forward with two others behind him, standing like guards. Gwyl sat at the other side of the cave, waiting for the moment. He stood in a fluid movement and Stray moved next to him. He turned to her, his senses flared and his eyes wide. She dropped her head and whimpered, dropping back to the ground with her Leopards. Silver growled slightly, but didn't move forward. Dog watched, a little uneasy, but not showing any signs of joining Gwyl. They'd known each other the longest and Dog knew exactly when he was needed; now was not one of those times.

Kangon turned his head slightly towards his two guards and both of them fell back to the ring that had formed as he stepped forward. Gwyl pulled himself upright, or as close as he would, he stayed crouched just slightly, his knees bent just enough to move as fast as was possible.

Once both of them had entered near the center of the cavern several wolves snarled from the edge. They were not snarls of challenge, but of anger that this new human would challenge the leadership so quickly. There was a process which had to be followed to challenge Kangon for the leadership, but Gwyl was not challenging him for leadership, he was challenging him for what had been done to him. None of the other wolves understood it; none of them knew what Kangon knew. So, Kangon snarled back at them and all of their protests fell silent.

When Kangon returned to focus on Gwyl, he was surprised to see the boy lunge forward at a speed that rivaled his own. He moved far too fast to dodge well, and Kangon slipped sideways, pulling away from the blade that had, almost as if by magic, appeared in Gwyl's hand. The knife caught him, just enough for a thin sliver of red to form on his arm.

Surprised at Gwyl's speed and tenacity, Kangon shrank back to the edge of the cavern near some of his wolves, rethinking his approach. He was no longer confident in winning easily, and he watched Gwyl move, wondering how he had become so strong. It was absurd, the boy was both human and a child, and yet was not truly either of them. He shook away the thought, trying to stay focused on what was happening, not how Gwyl had become what he was. He never once took his eyes from the wolf in front of him.

Kangon no longer harbored any doubt that Gwyl was a wolf. Gwyl had introduced himself as the Wolf-Demon, but Kangon had thought it only a title until a moment ago. Now it was difficult to think of the cub as anything other than a wolf - his posture, strength, aggression, all of it screamed wolf.

Kangon shuddered at the though while Gwyl moved around the circle, learning his boundaries like an experienced fighter might. Kangon though about what a shame it would be to force the Wolf-Demon into the servitude that came with being a werewolf. He knew that Gwyl would eventually break the werewolf urges that would bind him. For a while, though, they would subjugate him, break him at least a little, likely much more.

When Kangon had first been bitten, he'd hated himself, hated being caged inside his body. It wasn't just on fool moons, it was whenever something sparked the wolf inside - blood, lust, power, magic... all of them brought the wolf out and it was the wolf that had the power, not himself. It had taken him years to become stronger than the wolf, to control himself in all things. He refused to place that curse on Gwyl, because it would damage him. Instead of being trapped inside a cave, he would be trapped inside himself and unable to do anything about it.

Gwyl slid forward again, crossing the distance in one smooth movement. Kangon was ready this time and dodged just as fluidly. Moving as quickly as possible and using Gwyl's momentum, he caught Gwyl's body and flung it as hard as he could across the cave into the upper wall.

Gwyl spun in mid air, but arched his body, shoving his hands and feet out behind him before crashing into the wall. It softened the blow considerably, but he tumbled down from the roof in a great deal of pain. He could hear his pack fighting against someone, trying to move forward to him, disobeying the orders he'd given them. Slowly he got to his feet, surprising Kangon a great deal. Gwyl didn't know that the blow should have defeated him, that it would have defeated all but three of the werewolf pack.

As Kangon reconsidered Gwyl again, Gwyl turned to his pack growling for them to stop. Dog, who had gotten to his feet finally, whimpered and sunk to the ground. Silver froze, and stared, teeth bared, waiting, but not backing down. It was Stray who was causing the most trouble; she was fighting two werewolves who were struggling to keep her still.

"Stray," Gwyl growled quietly, he had no need to be loud, his voice carried a threat that every wolf in the cave understood. All of them stopped what they were doing and stared. Stray turned to him, eyes wide with surprise. She seemed beaten back by the tone he'd used and she dropped her head, whimpering.

The wolves around her backed away slightly, letting the Gwyl's pack have room, but not going too far. They glanced to Gwyl again, surprise still evident, but he ignored them and turned back to the fight.

Kangon lunged forward the moment Gwyl had turned to him, trying to catch Gwyl unaware. It was quick, a blur of movement that few could see. However, Gwyl was just as fast, and he dodged nimbly out of the way.

At the side of the cavern, some of the cubs that were still awake giggled. While they were unable to follow the action well, the movements they did see seemed both fascinating and humorous. The yearlings on the other hand, watched in awe as Gwyl twisted away from a second attack and launched an attack as Kangon moved back.

Kangon's attack had unbalanced Gwyl a bit, making him slower than he should have been, but his blade flashed again and another lace of red appeared across Kangon's back, this one much thicker and deeper than the first mark. It wasn't much more than a flesh wound, but the whole back caught their breath at the same moment, unsure how to react. Kangon had risen to leadership of the pack easily, not even receiving a single wound from the challengers. Even those who hadn't seen it had heard the stories that were passed through the pack, so all of them knew of it.

Ignoring the spectators, Gwyl launched himself forward after the retreating Kangon. But, Kangon had used the moment of distraction to focus and evade Gwyl's attacks, jumping backwards with tremendous force. As Gwyl moved forward again, Kangon spun in mid-air, slashing at Gwyl with claws that seemed to have grown right out of his hands. Gwyl was more than just surprised, but he threw his weight to one side, spinning uncontrollably out of the way and losing hold of his knife.

He didn't land; he crashed and bounced against the ground with tremendous force, then rolled to a stop near the edge of the cave. He jerked, rolling back to his feet, but facing the wrong way. He looked up to Tala's awestruck face and then jerked to the side when he saw Kangon's attack reflected in her eyes. He didn't get away unscathed, something had caught his arm and torn his elbow up.

Gwyl snarled when he landed on his feet, once again unbalanced, but not enough to be caught by an attack. He spun back to his opponent, nursing his elbow for a moment and watching Kangon. He saw the light reflect off what had cut him, his white knife. Gwyl snarled, but didn't move forward, his elbow screamed in pain and something filled him, a fury that he'd only felt once before.

Kangon didn't attack immediately, he was stretching, and Gwyl was sure he was testing his own wounds to see how well he could attack. Somehow he'd been struck more than Gwyl thought; he was touching his shoulders, as if they had been hurt.

While Kangon did this, Gwyl tested his arm, seeing how much he could use it. It screamed in pain, but he ignored it and tested it. The wound was deep, and had cut him bad enough that Gwyl determined his left hand was almost useless. He growled, angry that he had been wounded so deeply so quickly.

Kangon growled too and flashed his teeth. Both shot forward instantly, but Gwyl's posture was tighter, holding his wounded arm close to his body so that it was not exposed. Kangon was much closer to the wall, while Gwyl was in the center of the cavern. They met close to one wall and Kangon shoved the white knife forward at Gwyl's stomach. It was a move intended to cause a fatal wound; Kangon was fighting for real now.

Of course, Gwyl dodged sideways, but continued forward just as fast. He jumped into the air at an angle, twisting at the same time. His feet made contact with the wall and he absorbed the shock of striking the wall and shoved himself off as hard as he could.

Meanwhile Kangon slid to a stop, his movements too fast to stop on a dime. He knew that Gwyl would have the same problem, so he wasn't ready when he spun around and found Gwyl flying at him.

When Gwyl made contact he caught Kangon with his hands, grabbed the alpha's shoulders and used them to swing his knees in, making contact with Kangon's stomach first, then he folded in half over Kangon's shoulder. Both of them were thrown to the ground and the knife in Kangon's hand skittered across the floor. Gwyl only noted were it headed, but otherwise ignored it.

Immediately Kangon shifted his weight, throwing himself from the floor to his feet. Even with Gwyl's weight on him he made it seem effortless, which it likely was. Gwyl pulled his legs back and rolled over Kangon's back, landing on his hands and then twisting quickly, kicking at Kangon. The blow struck Kangon full on and he spun away, but turned back immediately.

When Gwyl jumped forward onto him he was ready. The two of them wrestled on the ground, growling and tearing at each other without remorse. Teeth and hands were the primary weapons, but anything that moved was used. Between the tight, sweaty skin and the lack of clothing, neither of them could hold on to anything. Blood and sweat splattered those who the two came close to on the sidelines.

Few could follow the action and even fewer could tell whose blood was being shed at any particular moment. At one point Kangon got a grip on Gwyl's arm and tried to use it to bash Gwyl into the floor, but Gwyl wrapped his arms around Kangon's back and buried his fingers into the solid muscles, holding him tight.

Kangon was able to throw Gwyl, but it didn't work as he'd planned. Gwyl got to his feet on the opposite side of the cavern and spit a bloody chunk of meat he'd torn from Kangon's shoulder. He grinned and growled, blood spattered face and eyes lit with something feral. His body was marred in every region, and bruises had already started to form on his stomach and chest where the beating had been focused. He groaned when he found that the left arm had even less movement.

For the most part, Gwyl ignored his wounds, knowing that to lick them now would only bring about his defeat. He bent over, snarling, remembering the feeling of burying his face into human flesh as he'd done once before. He remembered crushing them like twigs, and the feeling of superiority. It drove him, brought out something he didn't understand. He could feel magic welling up around him, and he knew it was from within himself. Gwyl knew he was doing something, even if he had no control over it.

Behind him, Tala, who had been watching with intense interest, suddenly found it hard to breathe. She had never seen anything like this challenge. Kangon had been in fights before while she lived with the pack. A few males were always foolish enough to test Kangon's strength, but none had ever come close to beating him. For that matter, she couldn't remember a single time when he'd been wounded. However there he was, covered in blood, some his own, some Gwyl's, but he was marked and eager. His eyes had turned amber again, and she supposed hers had too; it was the only way to even follow the fight. Very few of the pack had the ability to partially transform, and she could only do it with her eyes, but she'd tried to hide it until now because it simply made her more of an outcast than she already was.

When Gwyl launched himself forward with a fresh spurt of speed she gaped. He was hunched and his green eyes had gotten brighter, if it were possible. His hair was beginning to clump with blood and the dirt that was thrown up from the movements. His left arm, which she thought had been rendered useless, touched the ground and he used it to propel himself forward faster, running hand over foot until he struck Kangon and sent him flying into the back wall. He dropped to the ground, slightly dazed, but able to dodge the next attack. They didn't stop or slow, Gwyl simply threw himself forward over and over again, giving Kangon no chance to counter. It was all the alpha wolf could do just to dodge. He wasn't being injured, but he wasn't doing anything but moving out of the way either.

Gwyl finally cornered Kangon against a sharp point in the wall that was receded slightly. The wolves had moved away as Kangon approached, leaving the fighting to the two in the battle, but they didn't seem to like it one bit when Kangon found himself in a position where he could only launch an offensive or be beaten to a pulp. There was no where to retreat to, not that Kangon would think about retreating, because he was the alpha of the pack. They could also see that Gwyl would hurt him because of that. Some were beginning to think that Gwyl was trying to become the alpha of the pack.

Another werewolf, thinking to catch Gwyl off guard, moved in behind Gwyl. There was no response at first, but the moment he reached forward, Gwyl shifted and in an instant he found himself airborne. Gwyl flipped him in mid air, slammed him into the wall then dropped him like a doll.

None of the others moved forward to help the battered wolf, but another tried to attack Gwyl. The wolf was smart about it, moving forward in Gwyl's blind spot, but he moved too fast, and when Gwyl caught his arms he simply spun a full 180, violently throwing the wolf 30 feet into the far wall of the cave. That wolf also collapsed as he struck the ground.

Returning to his original prey, Kangon, he found that there was no one there. Kangon was fast, and Gwyl turned, barely catching his movement. He was ready for Kangon's attack the moment it came. He slashed out with his hands, coming millimeters from touching Kangon, but it didn't matter, blood spurted from a series of slash marks that appeared.

Kangon snarled and moved backwards, away from Gwyl's reach. It was then a voice spoke. It wasn't loud; in fact it was very quite, barely perceptible above the whispers and breathing of the crowd. "Gwyl," the voice chided.

Something deep inside Gwyl recognized it, and he faltered, not moving forward to attack Kangon. The fury that coursed through Gwyl's veins calmed to a simmer and the will to fight was gone.

Gwyl blinked, Kangon moved. Somehow Kangon had found the white knife, and in a flash it was pressed up against Gwyl's throat, just hard enough that blood trickled from the wound. Unfazed by the threat of death, Gwyl did nothing. Kangon did not strike. Instead, he withdrew, staring at Gwyl with his amber eyes and dropping the knife between them.

"The fight is over," Kangon said, then repeated himself in the native language. Gwyl understood it for the most part, but it only made sense because he'd heard it first in English.

He didn't care that the fight was over, when Firenze had called him something had gone away, and with it his will to fight. Still, he was angry for being trapped, and as Kangon moved with a limp to the healer waiting for him Gwyl had to suppress a growl. Dog, who had been relatively calm until that moment, rushed forward. But Gwyl continued to watch Kangon. He could see the healer wiping away the blood and revealing claw marks all over Kangon's body. Gwyl didn't look at his own hand, because he knew they were nothing more than hands, and it confused him that the marks on Kangon's body had come from fingers and not claws.

Silver nudged him and he whipped around to look at her, still breathing heavily. Some of the nearby werewolves stepped back, afraid to even be near him. He heard Stray approach but didn't say anything to her. Lancelot was with Stray, Guinevere and Galahad pushed through the werewolves who'd been holding them back and approached. When they got close enough all of them sniffed and then licked his wounds. It hurt, but Gwyl didn't show any signs of pain.

There was one thing that Gwyl looked for, the voice which had called to him. As the coarse tongues cleaned Gwyl's wounds, his eyes scanned the werewolves, all of them still speechless. Among them he saw Firenze staring at him, looking almost disappointed. Gwyl shook back the feeling that filled him. He hated the look and he tore his eyes away from it looking at the other wolves who'd been watching.

A few of the children squirmed out of the hold of their mothers and moved over to Gwyl to look at him. One of them even scrambled out into the middle of the ring before being stopped by his mother.

Tala moved through the crowed of werewolves fluidly. She stooped and picked up the white knife near one side of the cave wall. She brought the knife to Gwyl and handed it to him slowly, almost reverently. There was a look in her eye, a spark of something that Gwyl had never seen before. She didn't move forward, and he was sure that she wasn't in heat, it didn't seem like that. It did call to something inside him, made him shiver with power. The feeling was nowhere near as intense as the fight; it was almost like a dessert. He growled and she growled back, but not angrily. Then, when Gwyl understood it was the wolf inside him he raised his head and howled into the cave.

A moment later, Tala joined the howl, then Silver, Stray and Dog followed suite. Some of the little cubs howled as best as possible, but their howl was weak. Still, it was the call of the wolf and Gwyl knew that Tala had accepted him for what he was.

The crowd around Gwyl parted. Kangon moved through them like a giant wave of power, something that they revered. There was salve covering his wounds that smelled horrible. Gwyl barely noticed it; he was staring at Kangon's golden eyes. They were the eyes of a wolf, and chilling.

"I am sorry for allowing you to be trapped here," Kangon said, pushing aside the woman who was still tending to his wounds. "I need to make something clear. If you are bitten, you will be trapped by the wolf. Even when you somehow gain control over your wolf it will not be full control. If you hold of the beast for too long it takes over. Being a werewolf changes you. Look at the others."

Gwyl turned again to the wolves, looking at them with experienced eyes. Most were exhausted and some had even fallen asleep on the sides of the cave. They had a hungry look, Gwyl suspected because they smelled blood. There was something that almost every single one of them had hiding in their eyes. It was a caged look, as if they were wolves caged as Silver had once been.

"Want be wolf." Gwyl said, angry that Kangon was trying to dissuade him from it.

"There are other ways, ways you can better control yourself. Magic can help you if you let it."

Magic. Gwyl growled involuntarily. He didn't like magic even if it was all around him. All of the humans he could ever remember meeting had magic, so did the centaurs, the werewolves, even the trees all of them had magic, and it was always different. Still, magic was frightening, more frightening than fighting Kangon. If he lost he would die, he would not be trapped, he would not be forced to do things he did not want to do. Magic did that; magic stole his choices and forced him to slavery. He detested magic.

When Gwyl growled Kangon blinked, looking a little sour. "You do not like magic," he observed. "Yet you are filled with it." Making a gesture toward the wounds covering him he smiled. "Your magic is strong. You can transform without being a wolf."

"Not understand," Gwyl said, narrowing his eyes.

There was a moment of silence between the two. The leopards still licked Gwyl's wounds while Stray crouched next to him, watching Kangon carefully. Gwyl could tell she was still poised to attack, her weapons were within reach on her belt, but she hadn't actually reached for them.

Holding up his hand between the two, Kangon shivered. It was as if part of a wolf broke free through Kangon's hand. Long sharp claws formed, claws that Gwyl had seen in the fight. "You did something similar," Kangon said. He shuddered and the claws melted away to normal fingers. "I could not help but use them when I fought you, I had no idea that freedom was worth dying for to you."

The healer did something on his back and his nose crinkled. Gwyl could tell from his eyes that he was in pain. There was no anger coming from Gwyl though, now that he had found control again and he wasn't going to exploit the weakness. He had made his point without killing Kangon, and it had been enough. It was good to do it though; anger had been building in him since his last real fight and it had been quite a while.

• Edited 2004.11.23 •


	21. Demons and Dragons

Chapter 21

• Demons and Dragons •

The fight changed everything. Whenever Gwyl moved somewhere within the cave most of the wolf would drop their heads slightly, a sign of respect and his dominance in the pack. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but the fight had gained him acceptance in the pack even though he had a pack of his own.

A few of the wolves were angry with him, but rather than show him disrespect they went about their business, ignoring him utterly. Gwyl didn't mind, he had no desire for their respect, he only wanted to be allowed to roam free. Soon dog would be healed, and though Gwyl had told no one, he was planning on leaving the moment that Dog was able to get along with the pack. He was worried that Stray, who'd been taken by the pups, would want to stay, but he also knew that she would listen if he commanded it.

Ashes, the tiny little phoenix, had not left Gwyl's side since the incident. Whenever Gwyl would her over to Stray while she slept she would awake again and immediately appear on Gwyl's shoulder. The action reeked of magic, and Gwyl was put off by the phoenix because of it. He tried to accept it, just as if it were like the magic that he and Stray did, but it was stronger and it reminded him of the castle, which was a frightening memory - something he didn't want to be reminded of.

Firenze, the one who'd calmed the spirit inside Gwyl, had retreated to the back of the cave, keeping quiet. When he passed by Gwyl, or Gwyl passed by him, he would drop his head, but not from respect. It made Gwyl angry and sad that Firenze felt such anger or shame that he would not even make eye contact. A deep part of him yearned for Firenze to smile and tell stories as he had in the forest, but Gwyl buried it as well as he could.

The second thing that bothered Gwyl, something that he focused on to keep his yearning buried, was the continued absence of Seth. While he had not expected Seth to return there was something else that weighed down upon him, a feeling that made his stomach churn. The feeling wouldn't leave either, it continued to churn and grow in the pit of his stomach until it distracted him even in the most basic of tasks.

Silver noticed, when he failed to sleep and curl up next to him, laying her head on his chest and whining softly while the others slept. Sometimes it woke Stray, while her senses were not as acute as Gwyl's, she always slept next to him, and Silver's closeness occasionally brought her to a state of semi-consciousness. During these times she would wrap herself closer to Gwyl, snuggling underneath his arms.

As the blanket of darkness would spread through the trees Gwyl would perch himself at the edge of camp and listen for any signs of Seth returning. Many times he spent hours in total silence, waiting, listening. Then Tala would appear, even more eager than a pup, waiting to run with him. She was always around, even more than before. Stray disliked her even more and so, while Stray was around, Tala stayed at a distance, watching, waiting, but never far away.

Then, one night, he could stand it no more. The stirring in his stomach grew so strong that he told himself he would search out Seth to discover why such a thing was happening. Tala was waiting of course, she seemed surprised that he was not in his nest in the trees, waiting and listening.

Immediately Gwyl growled at her, a sign for her to back down. She did back down, without thought, something that he was glad to be able to force her to do. Tala bowed, but kept her eyes on him, watching, waiting for some sign of release. She didn't know any different, didn't know she was free to do as she wanted, he was dominant and she obeyed.

For a prolonged moment, Gwyl considered taking her with him, knowing she had a few useful abilities, especially in the far-reaching jungle he knew little of. He thought on it again, remembering Seth's description of the nest and the other snakes and then, decided it would be best not to have her along. The snakes would not be friendly; they would be as Seth's companion, Glint, had been, angry and violent. That did not even bring up the point that the snakes and werewolves were on bad terms, and Gwyl needed them to be as nice as possible at the moment. While showing up at there nest wasn't something that was going to make them happy, he was sure it would only be worse if she came along. He didn't want to force Tala to fight her way out of a nest of snakes, and he wasn't sure she even could do it.

Tala continued waiting, staring at him, her eyes pleading for an explanation. Gwyl knew this, but he didn't feel particularly pressed to give her one, not at the moment. Instead, he slipped closer to her, glancing back at the caves to assure that no others were nearby or listening, and the spoke quietly. "Know where Seth go?" he inquired, trying to keep his words as simple as possible. Stray was not with him to translate to better English, so he had to think carefully. It seemed the more Stray talked, the less Gwyl spoke, and though he knew more words, he found it more difficult to speak them.

Trusting that the yearling did know the forest well enough to know where Seth was, or at least had headed, was something Gwyl was confident to do. She was quite knowledgeable about the forest, and Gwyl knew why now, because she had little else to do as an outcast yearling. Until he had come along, she had spent much of her time in the forest alone; he had heard it whispered in the caves.

Automatically her eyes narrowed, and Gwyl could see her active mind working out the reason he'd asked for such a thing. He didn't say anything, because he didn't want to stop her from future thought around him, but he did growl, demanding an answer. She froze for a minute, having forgot her place, and nodded a little. In the past few weeks he'd known her, she'd changed a lot from the yearling he'd first met, developed into a semi-dominate wolf. He hoped that she would continue to learn and grow while he was away because Tala was one of the few werewolves he did like.

Turning, Tala raised her hand, pointing the direction Seth had originally headed. "Near mouth of big river. Go to river, move against. Will not take long. Smell many snakes. Not safe place."

Gwyl moved in closer, so close that their bodies touched for a moment and he could feel the shiver that ran down Tala's skin. He nuzzled her as a thank you and then brought his mouth to her ear. "I fine," he whispered and then pulled away, ascending into the trees and disappearing among the branches, heading the direction Tala had pointed out.

It was hours later when he happened upon the river. He heard it first, a dull roar of sounds that came closer and closer. He almost fell into it though, because the trees just dropped off right into the river with no real warning. The roar of the river had echoed through the trees, making it difficult to determine its location until the moment that there were no more trees. He snagged a long reaching branch, and swung himself upwards and then back into the trees.

Once he stopped he stared into the river. He had to watch it in awe, as the water flowed past him. It was an amazing sight, and nothing like any river he'd ever seen. It was so large that he could barely see the other side of it. It wasn't a river, not to Gwyl, it was a lake, a huge, flowing lake.

Turning, he finally faced the current, looking up river to see if there were any sign of the snakes. None were present immediately, but there were a few faint hints of them having come and go in the past. So, he moved along the edge of the river, against the flow, just as Tala had told him.

Within minutes he saw dozens of animals he'd never seen before. There were fishes in the river too, they were quick and surfaced for moments, but there were other animals in the river that caught his attention.

An animal surfaced, bobbing a little bit just like a log, with a snout that looked extremely powerful. The creature was massive, and Gwyl knew it would be something fierce in a fight, something that would be a struggle to defeat in the water. For a brief moment their eyes met, one predator to another. It watched, interested, until Gwyl shook away the stare and the river to continue on his quest. He was sure he knew the name of the creature, alligator or crocodile, though why it had two different names, he could not be sure.

It wasn't long before the scent of the snakes increased. It was a faint difference at first, but it became increasingly stronger, and he began to realize that the snakes traveled the path rather frequently. There were other signs of their presence, paths that had been well used with signs of snakes having shed their skin. Snakes stayed at the edge of his senses, sometimes there, sometimes not. From his time with Seth, he had learned that snakes had magnificent senses, and because of that, he was sure that they knew he was around.

Of the nest, Gwyl knew very little. Seth had never chosen to explain it, he only speak of his mate and a few minor facts about the workings of the nest. Even though he was confident of his own fighting ability, Gwyl had no idea what he was walking into and he hoped that Seth was not one of many his size. Still, the drive to find Seth safe was too much, and he continued forward, even with the threat looming close at hand.

When Gwyl came closer, he could feel it, and hear it. It was as if voices whispered in the wind around him. He could smell them, but the smell lingered in the air all around him, making it difficult to pinpoint a certain location. None of the snakes were familiar, so he continued forward, cautiously. A snake moved into his path, coiling itself around a nearby branch. It raised its head and stared at him, waiting for something.

Gwyl didn't respond, he stared, waiting to see if the snake had something to say. It did not, and after a few minutes it dropped into the dark ground and moved along its way as if nothing had happened. After several minutes of waiting Gwyl moved again, even slower, careful about where he moved, insuring that a snake didn't appear closer than the last one had.

Every few minutes he stopped, listening to the sounds of the forest and scenting the wind. Other snakes came, most of them small, but he avoided them well and always waited until they were gone before continuing forward.

It came as a great surprise when, on one occasion, as he stopped, something dropped from the trees. A spider, one nearly the size of his fist, scrambled up the branch with its pincers clicking away. It hopped around madly, trying to tell Gwyl something. He stared at it, smelling the wind again and realizing that the smell of the snakes was so strong that the tiny spider had gone unnoticed.

"I going to snakes." Gwyl said to it and it paused for a moment, then danced around again furiously.

Even not knowing what it was, Gwyl had seen enough of the spiders to realize it was distressed and probably trying to warn him of continuing forward. He ignored the warning, knowing that soon it wouldn't matter. He was near the nest, he could smell snakes now, lots of snakes, just ahead.

There was another smell that began to bother Gwyl as he moved forward. It was something he'd never come upon before, but it burned at his nostrils even though the scent was faint. It wasn't a snake, though the scent was somewhat similar, it was as different as the scent of a human and the centaurs.

It wasn't the only thing present, there was something else, a gnawing feeling of need. He _needed _to continue forward, needed to find out what was ahead, find Seth, regardless of his safety. He fought the feeling as it took over him, trying to stay in control, but it pushed him, made him sink into the animal part of himself.

In ten minutes time, without having any idea how it happened, Gwyl found himself standing in a clearing that he suspected was as close to the nest as he would allow himself to go. Seth was next to him, and until that moment Gwyl had not noticed him. He dropped to Seth, horrified to find that he'd been split open, but was, fortunately, alive.

What made matters worse was that, since Gwyl was within the boundaries of the nest, he didn't even have a vague idea of how many snakes. He could smell them all around and watched as some of the larger ones twisted in and out of the edge of the forest. Dawn was coming, and mounting light was just enough that it was making it difficult to see in the darkness.

It wasn't the snakes that bothered him the most though. They were keeping their distance, and most of him that he saw were nowhere close to the size of Seth. He knew they were waiting for someone, or something, but even that wasn't the most chilling thing in the glade, the thing that kept Gwyl quiet. There was something else, the scent that had puckered Gwyl's nostrils only a little while before, it was in the clearing.

The creature wasn't a snake, even though its smell was similar, it was somewhat like a snake, just as a lizard might be like a snake. This was no lizard though, not unless a lizard was able to wrap its tale around you twice over. It wasn't nearly the size of Seth, perhaps half the length, but just by its smell Gwyl could tell it was infinitely more dangerous just as some snakes were predators and some where peaceful, this thing made predatorily snakes seem peaceful. It wasn't a predator, it was a killer, and much, much larger than Gwyl.

Unlike a snake, it had skin, a thick, leathery skin that looked rough and thick. Gwyl's hand rubbed along the side of his knife, wondering if it would find itself buried in the animal soon. It moved gently, a soft rocking motion as it breathed, and a coarse hiss escaped its snout every few seconds. The grass and rocks nearby were black, and the scent of fire reached Gwyl's nose. Gwyl watched it, ignoring the other snakes because of their distance, trying to decide how to best fight the creature should they clash. Now was the time to decide, when he had time to watch.

Again it moved, not to breathe, but to adjust itself as it slept. Gwyl could see the solid bulk of muscle, the sinuous curves that suggested a deadly, fluid grace. It was built to move with great speed even as large as it was, though from the look of its feet it didn't look like it could walk well, or run at all. It wasn't slick enough to wind across the ground as snakes did, its skin was far too coarse to do such a thing.

Then, it moved one last time, the sleep it had been in was becoming restless, as if it sensed another true predator nearby. It had wings, great monstrosities that were tucked tightly into its side, thin, but strong. It wasn't something Gwyl could imagine, a creature of such size flying, but then, it could do no other thing, and their size suggested they were used for something.

"Do you enjoy watching my dragon?" a slew of voices whispered on the wind, swirling around Gwyl like a storm.

With a deft spin, Gwyl had turned in a complete circle, rushing to see those who had spoken. He almost missed it the first time, standing in the darkest of shadows, as much a part of the shadow as any other part of the forest. For some reason even Gwyl's piercing eyes couldn't make out its exact shape, it was as if the shadows had wrapped themselves around the creature, cloaking its form.

As far away as it was, Gwyl was sure that it couldn't have been the same creatures that had spoken. But there was nothing nearby, nothing but snakes, and one of the things Gwyl had learned from Seth was that snakes could only speak snake, and his ability to speak their language was a rare gift, for even their mysterious master could not speak their language.

There was a moment when their eyes met, gleaming black against glistening jade, they were hot, hot as a white fire, and for a moment they burned into Gwyl's head. Gwyl shook it away, shook away the pain and the thoughts, growling a challenge. Something invisible shot from the darkness, it disappeared into the ground and then rose again, all around Gwyl. It was magic, he could taste it, but it was unlike any magic he'd seen from others. It was rough magic, the sort of magic that was like sharp rocks, waiting at the bottom of a cliff. They poked him, reaching out to wound, and leered at him from afar, daring him to try and fight.

Deciding that it was best not to try and combat the magic, but instead combat the creator of the magic, Gwyl turned back to the darkness, waiting to see what new things this creature would turn upon him. He did not understand the creature, for he had made no enemy of it, he'd done it no wrong that he knew of, and yet it despised him enough to use magic on him.

The voices spoke again, but they were not voices, they were a single voice echoed and changed, coming from every direction. The gleam of the black eyes disappeared that instant, and Gwyl heard the voice echoing through his head as he searched for the creature it belonged to. "Gwyl, the so called Wolf-Demon," it mocked, "you've graced me with your presence at last."

In the shadows far to the right of where the creature had previously been, the eyes appeared again. Gwyl shuddered, watching them, waiting to see them move again. He knew how to detect the creature, such an unnatural mantel of darkness carried magic with it, and though it was faint, Gwyl could taste it as well. He knew the creature was not human, for it was unlike any human he'd yet to encounter. The fact that it hid demonstrated it was scared or smart. Perhaps it did not want to show itself for one reason or another, but no matter what the reason, it eventually broken into two reasons, it was afraid to be seen, or wanted it used to its advantage.

Gwyl growled another response at the darkness. The creature laughed, a hideous screech like from a dying bird as it took its last breath. It too traveled on the wind, coming from all directions at once. "Would you really challenge me Demon? Without having even seen me?"

The challenge was growled a third time, daring the creature to come out. Gwyl knew that he did not have the advantage here, because, while it knew him, he had not even seen it yet. He crouched, finding the ground comforting, and using it to balance his senses. They were fired up because of the beast asleep at the far side of the clearing, they were awake because of the darkness and magic that had wrapped itself around this second, unknown creature. He stared as the black eyes watched him moved a little a time until Gwyl was crouched beside Seth.

Seth was alive, he knew that much, but there was agitated breathing, a slow hissing sound that sounded just the output of a bubbling brook. "You are awake?" he hissed calmly to Seth, trying to keep his voice down, but not low enough.

The monster laughed again, louder this time, and instead of the creature's voice wafting along the winds, it cut through them, leaving no echoes or thoughts other than its power. "You truly can speak to them," it said, adding to the laugh. "Such a beautiful gift given to such an undeserving human, it is not an honorable thing to see the stars allowing such an atrocity."

Beside Gwyl the sound of the brook got louder, and there was a bubbling sound and a painful hiss, a single word. "Yesssss," he said, obviously in pain.

"The injury is bad?" Gwyl asked again, not caring that his voice carried to the creature in the darkness, because it did not understand the words. Gwyl did know that there was going to be a fight soon, whether it was with the snakes, something he would have much preferred, the sleeping beast - the thing he least preferred, or the shadow creature with its magic. What he needed to know was how much Seth would be able to help. It was a mistake, coming without the rest of his pack, but he no longer had the option of changing the thing he'd done, and was willing to face it.

Seth was almost dead, he was sure of it, but he had to ask, to make sure.

Again, it was a single word, the bubbling had died, but Gwyl could sense the pain that Seth endured just to hiss "yessss."

Though it hurt Seth, Gwyl needed more information, about the sleeping beast, the one the shadow beast had called dragon. He needed information about the shadowed beast as well, because he was sure it would be one of these creatures he would have to fight to escape, and now that he'd come, and Seth was alive, he was going to escape with Seth, so the fight might be against all the things that had surrounded him.

"The winged snake," Gwyl hissed, "does if have a weakness?"

One thing about the snake language was that Gwyl knew it, knew it better than any other language, it was something he had to lea or adapt to, he simply knew it, and it made speaking such complex things much easier.

"Dragon... isss... deadly..." Seth hissed, one word at a time. "isss... ssstrong... breathesss... fire..."

There was no easy way to explain how difficult the task had become. Of all the things Gwyl had seen, the only thing that Gwyl was afraid of, was fire. He used it, rarely, Firenze used it much, but it was contained. Firenze had only had to demonstrate once how an uncontained fire was deadly, and it had been frighteningly fast, and just as deadly.

"The shadow beast is strong?" Gwyl asked, his eyes returning to the black cloak of shadows.

For the first time Seth's eyes opened, and Gwyl turned to him. There was a look, something that said more than words. The black-eyed beast was powerful, perhaps more powerful than the dragon beast that slumbered. Seth did speak though, in a long, drawn out hiss. "Leave," he said, "I will die here... do not ssstay and die asss well."

Angry that he was being sent away, Gwyl growled. Seth had stood beside him once, changed his allegances and was now hurting because of it. Seth was in trouble, and Gwyl knew that he wouldn't abandon his friends, someone he would gladly let join his pack. Besides, the black-eyed creature had issued a challenge, and Gwyl did not take challenges lightly.

Taking a deep breath, Gwyl raised his head to the morning light and sang into the wind, hoping it would reach his pack over such a distance. Then, with a movement as quick as lightning, he threw himself forward into the trees, heading towards the dark-eyed demon.

Various snakes shot out at him from the darkness, but he saw them, they weren't quick enough. Slashing and hacking, he came to the spot he demon had stood, but the demon was no longer there.

A vicious laugh rang out as Gwyl let himself feel through the are to find the magic of the black-eyed monster. "Gwyl, the Almighty Wolf Demon," the voice mocked. "You must do better than that." Again, the voice was carried with the wind, and had no direction. Gwyl was troubled to find that he couldn't locate the magic that wrapped the shadows even though he knew the beast was still around.

There was another problem that immediately came to light. The dragon, which until now slumbered, stretched and woke.

Gwyl felt it first, as he moved back into the clearing, he felt the disturbance of a magic, like bug crawling all around, crowding him until it crawled up his own skin. Magic sprang to life all around, magic that had not existed before. The dragon was even more fearsome now, for it was almost like the very essence of magic. As it moved, magic changed, formed around it.

When Gwyl slid to a stop in the clearing he stared at the dragon. Its eyes focused on him, not narrowing, just focusing on him as they opened. They were slitted and pale, almost icy white. They didn't stare, they just watched, or at least one of them did. The second eye wriggled away, tracking all the movement around it. It stopped for a moment on something that even Gwyl had not seen, and for a moment Gwyl dropped his defenses to look toward that spot.

Something struck Gwyl from behind, so hard that he was propelled head over heels into a tree on the other side of the clearing. When Gwyl stood again he could see that the dragon had moved, moved at a speed he hadn't even seen, and was half risen, watching the activity with interest.

Whatever it was that had struck Gwyl, struck hard, much harder than even Kangon had. Gwyl had landed it well, using his arms to cushion himself against the tree, but it damaged him. He watched the dragon first, since it was the easiest and likely most fearful enemy, and his back screamed in pain as he moved. He felt welts rise up against the thick layer of mud, blood and other forest things that had become his second skin.

What had struck him was a snake, Gwyl's eyes flickered away from the dragon for an instant to confirm it. A snake, a large one, though not nearly as big as Seth, was curling up in the position he'd been standing, taking its time to show it was there. Gwyl growled, but kept from allowing it to get too loud, he didn't need to challenge the snake and dragon at once. Besides, while the attack had hurt him, he was far from incapacitated.

A laugh emanated from thin air, carried by the wind, irritating Gwyl. He didn't turn to find it, instead calming himself and letting his senses do the work. There was nothing at first, but magic began to swirl around him. Knowing what was happening, Gwyl leapt to the tree branch and then swung away, leaving the magic to do its work. The ground rose, forming walls and then a roof flowed tightly overhead forming a neat little box.

Gwyl growled a challenge again, for what had to be the fifth or sixth time, deciding that it was possible the creature was a human, or a wizard, possibly even a shaman. Whatever it was knew much magic, and was apt at using it, which was becoming increasingly chilling. Because the magic had come from the ground, Gwyl had no idea where it originated from and he tried to sense it again, but the dragon chose to move then.

It rose to its feet, slowly, almost lethargically, its head bobbing back and forth gently, like a gentle ripple of water. It never looked away though, just moved back and forth, stretching slowly. One leg rose, taking a step forward, but it never moved further, just stretched its neck, then its tail and legs, finally unfolding its massive leather wings. It was magnificent, standing tall, wings open, breast bared. It opened its mouth, a soft roar that sounded like a yawn, followed by a black wisp of smoke. Gwyl was again reminded that Seth had warned it could breathe fire.

The voice reached his ears again, a grating laugh. "You're no match for him Demon. He's not like those foolish wizards that dared invade the forest you called your home."

Gwyl blinked, then searched once more for the voice, deciding it might be best to find it as well as watch the dragon. Whoever it was, knew his history if it knew of the wizards before. "How… know?" Gwyl asked, irritated that the creature knew so much about him.

"Oh Gwyl, there is so much more I know about you. Why you came here - why you feel the need to save this traitorous snake, the one you have so willingly bestowed a name upon."

The words brought hisses from all around, as if the snakes understood his words as well as Gwyl did. He could hear all of them cursing in their tongue, wishing him a painful death. For the most art, he ignored the voices, knowing that it was not the snakes that he needed to fear most.

The dragon did not speak, it did not even seem to pay the voice any mind, it simply finish stretching, then stood completely, waiting for something. Gwyl knew any chance of catching the creature unaware had faded, but he was certain that it had acted docile on purpose, to give the impression of innocence and amateur abilities. Gwyl knew that neither of them were true.

Finally Gwyl decided that it might be best to stay in the clearing to fight the dragon. While it made him more vulnerable, it allowed him to see the dragon move about, to test it's abilities before mounting a real fight. It also made it more difficult for a snake to get too close without being seen, or the black-eyed creature in the shadows.

"Gwyl..." the voice chided, then added another name, something that angered Gwyl even more. "Harry..." it said, just loud enough for it to whisper in the winds. "You claim to be a demon, and you plague my life," it continued, the sound of its voice carrying so much rage that Gwyl's throat constricted. "I came here to be rid of my old life, to be free to do as I wanted, and yet here you are. You and that fragmented pack of yours were not suppose to be here. I was supposed to be rid of you, and yet, here you are."

The prior confidence was not gone, but it was different somehow, as if it was broken, filled with hate. It helped Gwyl, because he knew that a creature that would show so many emotions during a battle was not as strong as it could be. He was a little confused because he knew he'd never met the black-eyed beast before. The voice, the eyes, nothing that he knew about the beast was familiar at all.

A howl broke through the whispering wind, not a familiar one, but still a howl. It was comforting to know that there were other wolves out there. The problem was two-fold, first that it had come from the wrong direction, further from the pack than he was, a lot further. Its voice would not Harry to the pack he wanted to hear it, and he hoped that his own voice would carry far enough, even the werewolves would know his howl and tell his pack. Another howl followed the first, from the same direction, a series of songs that made him feel better facing the odds he was facing.

The sounds were different, the voices were different, but the song was the same, always the same. It was strong, an acknowledgment of his plea for help. Even though the voices were foreign and unknown Gwyl was glad that there was pack there and that it would come to help.

The voices did something else, the infuriated the shadow beast. "You came to destroy me!" the voice screamed, the haunting quality of it no long present. Gwyl might had thought that the voice might have been two different beasts, but he knew it wasn't. This animal was no longer angry, it was scared, and all of the confidence it had was gone. "You're here to steal away all that I've gained!" he screamed savagely. "You've come to destroy me! I won't let you! I won't let you leave here again! You stole away everything I had! You killed me once, you'll never do it again!"

Gwyl was even less sure of the identity. He'd never stolen things from people, only taken what had been given to him. Thought he'd killed before, he was sure that he'd never killed anything remotely like this beast. A few animals, a few humans, no others. While he wasn't completely sure the animal wasn't human, he was sure that he'd killed the humans and wouldn't have to worry about them coming to life again.

Adrenaline surged through his body, and his mind began to focus on the pending fight. Gwyl's blood was racing, his heart began beating twice as fast as normal. Magic began spreading through him, making him angry and making the magic spread further. The fight was not a fight, not like the fight he'd had with Kangon, this was deadly, a battle. Gwyl was almost sure that he wouldn't survive and it thrilled him even more.

Somewhere, far in the distance, in yet another direction, Gwyl heard a faint howl. It wasn't a strong song, the wind had killed the words, but it played along the breeze, giving him more hope that the wolves of the jungle would echo his call.

The dragon moved. It was suddenly baring its breast, puffed out, its wings folded close to its body again.

Knowing the fight had begun, Gwyl darted forward, knife finding a place in his hand. He stabbed towards it and watched in horror as the head retracted and the body slid sideways in a puff of dust. The wing had moved for an instant, opening up and closing just as fast. He was almost ten feet to the right of where the dragon was now, his knife plunged into mid air, where the dragons neck had been moments before.

The dragon snarled, though it sounded more like a roar. Its head swung around lightning fast, stretching to catch Gwyl. Gwyl moved, not as fast, but fast enough to dodge. His feet felt light on the ground and he moved with reflexes that were unmatched.

When he was a safe distance from the dragon he considered it again, fighting the dragon and how to approach it. It rose, stretching again, opening its wings wide. They rose, then dropped, flapping slowly. They rose again, and snapped downward, throwing up a cloud of dust. Wind swirled with another flap, bringing up more dust and a few flaps later, rocks.

When the dust and rock settled back to the ground the dragon was gone. Nearby snakes hiss threats, daring to come close now that it had disappeared, but Gwyl didn't care. He searched for the dragon, trying to discover where it had gone to. It didn't take long, to discover where, but it surprised Gwyl to see it moving higher into the air. It was something he hadn't expected.

Magic sliced through the air like a knife, giving Gwyl barely enough time to avoid it. He glanced towards where it had come from, a deep dark part of the forest, but he couldn't see eyes, the black eyes that were angry at him. Another shot of magic twisted towards him, and Gwyl through himself away from it, keeping away from the magic. It was problematic to be facing it. He glanced up to find that the dragon was all but a little speck in the sky, but it was quickly growing larger, coming towards him at a tremendous speed.

With all the strength he had, Gwyl bound across the clearing, away from the shadow and towards the trees opposite him. He glanced up to see the dragon was coming closer, gaining speed faster and faster as he dove through the air. It was adjusting itself as Gwyl moved, keeping up with every step forward. Its wing spread outward, giving it a flat look instead of a solid round object.

The time between opening its wings and reaching the ground was minimal. Gwyl had only enough time to change directions before the sharp talons of its feet tore into the ground and pulled away, taking with it rocks, dirt and roots.

He watched as the dragon rose into the air again, its wings flapping up and down, pounding against the wind that carried him. A snake slithered forward, trying to use Gwyl's focus against him. The snake pulled back, finding several deep wounds in its belly before it could get out of the way. The dragon neared again, Gwyl could feel it magic approaching like a huge stone in the sky.

Gwyl dodged the snake and focused back on the Dragon, finding it was almost upon him. The snake struck at his side, and was suddenly not there. The Dragon had gripped the snake around the midsection and was roaring a battle call. Gwyl watched as the snake was rushed from the center and then tossed aside from he sky. It fell into the woods a good distance away, no longer a problem. Still, the dragon was a problem, Gwyl knew that if it caught him he'd be squeezed much easier than the snake, because the snake was much bigger.

It was then he realized how one-sided the fight was, how futile any effort would be to stop the beast. It was quick, and lived in the air, gwylk could tell from the way it floated there, not feeling the least bit uncomfortable. It belonged in the sky, that was why it had wings.

The fight, while something he'd only imagined, was decided. Gwyl knew the outcome would not be in his favor, not unless he could lre it into his playground, a place where it no longer had the advantage of air.

Scrambling towards the nearest tree, Gwyl felt the dragons magic descending on up again. He pushed himself harder, trying to make it to the trees before the dragon made it to him. He couldn't make it though, as he neared fire sprang from the sky, obscuring his path. He screamed in frustration, sliding to a start and heading towards another section. It too burst into a wall of flames, obscuring Gwyl's path. The flames did more than burn him, they weren't just like normal fire, they screamed magic at his senses, scaring him even more.

Another laugh, from a different direction, near the edge of on of the flames.

The dragon swooped in again, and tried directly for Gwyl as he stood, surprised, considering his options. It missed him, but just barely. The heat of the flames didn't seem to hot as he considered what would happen to him otherwise.

Pulling the rope from his belt, Gwyl decided on the best plan of action, not sure if it would work, but hoping. He would have liked to have had the whip, or even the wrap, but Stray had them both, and his pack still hadn't responded.

Looping the rope around his wrist, he concealed it and ran again, heading towards the nearest opening of flames. A snake appeared just beyond, but he ignored it, because it didn't matter. The dragon was faster, it had risen into the air and it fell again, like the sky was throwing a rock that never touched the ground.

Gwyl felt it behind him the instant before it reached out. He rolled to the side, leaving the rope to hand in mid air, exactly where he'd been. For a moment he thought it didn't work. Then, almost the moment he was about to try something else, the rope yanked hard on him, cinching the rope around his wrist and rising into the air so fast that everything was a blur of greens and blues.

By the way that Gwyl was thrown back and forth he didn't have to see the dragon to know it was angry. It roared so loud that the whole forest must have heard, and continued higher into the air, with Gwyl trailing along, no longer happy at his idea choice. He was going to use the rope to propel himself into the trees, losing his rope but keeping his life. Now he was whipping around with no control.

He stared down at the ground as it shrunk beneath him. The snakes, even the largest of which, disappeared, even the large clearing became nothing but a tiny dot. Then the rope went slack and Gwyl twisted in terror. The dragon had flipped in mid-flight, using the length of the rope to its advantage, it was suddenly baring down on him. Gwyl began dropping, faster and faster, with no way to maneuver.

It seemed to take forever when it happened. He felt the dragon approach, saw the ground and how far it'd been. It once again seemed as if he were standing away, watching himself die. The dragon's mouth was open, ready to engulf him whole. There was nothing else, no pack to watch him die, to avenge the death. Seth was far below, and would soon follow in death.

Magic started to build within, he could feel it, almost see it happening from afar. It was like a burning ball of flames spreading out from the center. Then, as everything returned back to reality the sharp teeth of the dragon crunched, killing the spreading magic. Gwyl roared in pain, an intense, white hot pain that seared his whole body. He wriggled, but found it only mad things worse as the teeth cut deeper. His blood boiled, and the pain intensified, like pokers of pain being shoved into him.

When Gwyl tried to move the pain deepened until his body quit responding altogether. He couldn't even close his eyes as he watched the ground come closer and closer. The dragon dropped him unceremoniously next to Seth. Gwyl knew because he could see the stakes driven into the ground, holding Seth down. He saw nothing else, except that the morning sun had finally breached the mountain tops on the horizon.

There was a brief moment that the light intensified, as if the sun were coming closer. Magic sparkled, tearing at the ground around him, but Gwyl could do nothing about it. He would have liked to face the dragon again, he thought, in a match that was even, when he wasn't hurting and he had only the dragon to worry about. The light became so bright that his eyes, even open, went black and he dropped into unconsciousness.

• Updated 2004.12.17 •


	22. Healing

Chapter 22

• Healing •

Gwyl woke wrapped in soft furs, unable to identify his surroundings. He tried to move, but his body refused, as if his mind had become detached from the rest. He could feel, but nothing else. The furs were comfortable, they were soft and warm, but they were magic, and Gwyl hated magic.

It was what woke him the first time, the feeling of unknown magic surrounding him. He wasn't able to open his eyes, or even think clearly about what was happening. His thoughts were spatters, bits of images with no real connection. There was no feeling of warmth or sound of the forest, no breeze to help him determine if it was night or day.

Something, or someone, flitted at the edge of Gwyl's senses. He wasn't sure of exactly what it was, but it made him wonder if he was doing to die, and that thought began to scare him. He was sure of one thing above all, that he was alive, and at the moment he didn't care very much to die.

There was a strange picture that kept protruding in his thoughts, and a word that went with it. _Dragon_. The word continued to return, and the image, the great beast of a lizard, where he'd seen it he wasn't sure, but it was dangerous.

Sounds came and went, but it was nothing distinguishable. The language was unlike any Gwyl had heard in his life, a soft mantra, that entered his very bones. Magic followed the words, flowing around him, through him. It felt very much like the magic of Albus, the old wizard from the castle, but it was stronger and more distinct. It also was like the werewolf magic sometimes, at least the part of them that were magic. Sometimes it was unlike any magic he had encountered, so pungent that he couldn't breathe, and yet he continued to live as he was exposed to it.

Time passed like it always does. Gwyl couldn't be sure of how long it was. His internal clock, which he had relied on for so long, no longer functioned properly. His waking moments were irregular, the presence was not consistent, and the room provided no means to track the passage of time.

When Gwyl finally managed to open his eyes, nothing changed. The darkness was so absolute that even his adept eyes could make out nothing. His arms twitched, and with a painful move, he pushed away the furs that had covered him, no longer able to manage with the taste of magic.

Growling, he tried to move further. His body complained and sharp, searing pains shot through his body with even the most minor movements. Hot, boiling pain filled his body as his blood began to circulate normally. His even breath had turned ragged by the time he sat up.

"This idea, foolish it is," a chalky voice said, and Gwyl twisted towards it, barely fighting the urge to cry out because of the pain. He recognized the voice, the same voice that had been surrounding him with magic. He growled, his eyes trying to focus on the place where the sound had come from.

A jet of magic shot towards him and Gwyl dodged it painfully, then leapt towards his attacker. Because of the darkness he couldn't see the attacker, but he could feel as the man brushed against him, dodging. As much pain as he was in, Gwyl's power filled him and, for a moment, he was quicker than the attacker, latching onto his arm.

Ever magical person that Gwyl had ever observed using magic had done it with their hands. Many times it was with wand-sticks, but it had always, always involved their hands. He didn't know why, because magic was in all parts of them, but their hands seemed to conduct it. That was why, as Gwyl held the arms behind the attacks back, he was surprised when a burst of magic came from the man. The pain he was feeling quadrupled and the bit of power he had briefly attained had all but disappeared. He collapsed on top of the man, conscious, but unable to move no matter how hard he willed it.

There was a long pause of movement, and then the man beneath him pushed Gwyl away. He didn't do it hard either, just enough that he could slither out from beneath Gwyl. He spoke words, but they were not in a language Gwyl understood. Even if he didn't know what was said, he could hear the burst of anger in the voice. The man finally stood, Gwyl could hear him scraping his feet. He moved, this time further away, shuffling.

Gwyl could hear the leg dragging slightly as the man walked. Knowing that this might be the only time he'd have, Gwyl drew all the power he had to kill the man. Pain beyond his imagination shot through him as he forced himself to a kneeling position. Then, with a grunt of pain so extreme he could not stay silent, he continued to his feet.

The man stopped moving, but Gwyl could still hear him breathing heavily, matching Gwyl's own short breath. He spoke, three quick words, sounding oddly concerned. Gwyl ignored him, not giving him any way to determine where he was. He was ready to step forward when the man disappeared completely. His presence, his magic, the sound of his heart and breathing, they all disappeared. It was as if the man had opened an invisible door, and stepped through, closing it behind him. But Gwyl could not sense a door, or anything that might be attributed to the man vanishing.

Taking a single step, Gwyl collapsed in pain, no longer able to bear it. He curled into a ball and whimpered, without his pack he was alone, so very alone.

When he was still, the pain ebbed for the most part, coming back at odd times, but staying relatively quiet. The occasional sharp pain felt like a pup who'd forgotten the sharpness of his teeth as they wrestled, it reminded Gwyl of home, and of his pack, and he wondered if he was ever going to see them again. The time in the darkness made him think strange things like that, even though he knew he should be thinking of the inevitable battle between the man and himself.

It was at least a full day when there was a whisper of magic again. It entered like a breeze, and lifted Gwyl from the ground, then pulled him from the darkness.

Gwyl closed his eyes, blinded by the light, but his other senses took over while his eyes adjusted. The man was nearby, standing as still as a human could stand. Gwyl wasn't sure if this was the preceding of an attack, or if the man was just trying to hide. Still, Gwyl could feel the tiny movement of the air near him, hear his heart beating in a slow, rhythmic pattern. He focused on it, ready to do everything that was possible to kill the first instant he had a chance. He could smell the fire the man had been near recently. The magic was there too, a great deal more than what he'd originally had. The man seemed revived somehow, and walked walking without pain again, none that Gwyl could sense at least.

It took several minutes for Gwyl to adjust to the environment. His eyes, in the dark for quite a long while, didn't seem to like the light any longer. When they finally did adjust enough for Gwyl to see objects clearly, he glimpsed the man watching him. He was stock still, and Gwyl's impression of him changed immediately. He was watching, not angrily, or hungrily, nor was he concerned, he just watched. He was short, not much taller than the yearlings, or even Gwyl at full height. The skin was dark, like most of the people in the pack. His features where sharper though, more battle worn. It was obvious, even though he wasn't as powerful as most of the werewolves, he had been through more.

Scars adorned his body, as very little of it was covered. Much of it had been painted too. It was his face that had the most intricate designs though. On his right side where swirls of white, difficult to make out because of the intricacy. His left was much more jagged, like broken rocks, and not nearly as finely designed. The rest of his body was filled with symbols, none of them that Gwyl understood, but they seemed powerful. His eyes were mild-brown, and deceiving, because Gwyl knew he was a lot more deadly than his eyes led to believe.

"Motion is cause pain," the man said, speaking his strange, twisted magical words. There was no trace of an accent, as the werewolves had, so it sounded as if the man spoke it frequently, and yet he did not speak it right at all. The voice carried magic with it, they weren't causing magic, rather they were magic, and Gwyl shrank away just slightly, still ready to strike as quickly as possible.

"Leave alone," Gwyl insisted when the man took a step forward. He didn't like humans, and he didn't like magic. He'd had enough of human help when he'd been at the castle, and he was disgusted by all of them. They had tried to turn him into one of them, and he wasn't going to go through that again.

"Healing is needed," the man said, speaking magic again, "difficult it is. Poison spreads again. This is effect of fight again. Difficult to survive a dragon's poison. Strange, that you live. The magic within is strong, violent strong."

"Want to leave," Gwyl said, carefully watching for an exit, but unable to turn his head without loosing track of the man. He knew it was impossible to outrun the man, and probably impossible to win a fight with him, but he wouldn't let himself be forced into bondage again. He refused to be turned into a human.

The painted man growled, making it obvious that he was upset because of the request that was made. He didn't seem angry, just upset, he was warning, telling Gwyl he was in control. "Choice you have. You stay awake during healing. You do not stay awake. Keep moving, you no choice but to not be awake. More you fight, longer to heal. If stop, we finish heal, then we speak."

Again, his words were laced with magic, thought Gwyl couldn't figure out why. He closed his eyes, thinking silently. "I not like magic," he said simply, but didn't move. He wasn't going to be put into an unconscious state, and he wouldn't move until he knew he could have the upper hand against the man.

There was a frown that made the white paintings change size and shape. It looked for a moment as if they were alive. Gwyl wondered if they were some sort of magic. "Does not matter," he said. "Only way to live. Takes pain away. Want feel pain?"

Gwyl growled yes.

"Fine," the man snapped angrily. Even if he couldn't speak English quite right, it was obvious it angered him. Then, with a wave of his hand Gwyl was screaming at the sudden onslaught of pain. It felt as if he'd been bitten in half and his whole body seared like hot fire.

"Can make go away again," the man said and raise his hand.

Angrily, Gwyl clenched his jaw, struggling to overcome the pain. He wouldn't scream again, it showed weakness. As the man's hand started to move Gwyl growled in anger. "No," he hissed once he'd taken another breath. "No magic."

"Persistent you are." the man said, and then lowered his hand. Some magic was used, but it was barely perceivable. Gwyl could tell that whatever it was that the man was doing, he was using as little magic as he could. The man was unlike any wizard Gwyl knew, and Gwyl wondered if he was a shaman instead of a wizard.

Hours later the pain had partially subsided, but it still ached across his whole body, sharp pains coming and going as time passed. The painted man was the same way. He drifted in and out, but never made any more noise than a few grunts. At one point, after a good deal of time had passed, he waved his hand over Gwyl's face. There was a burst of magic that tasted stronger than most magic's, and then Gwyl opened his eyes again to a different room.

Instantly Gwyl struggled and found himself tied down, which made him struggle even harder. It took several minutes of sharp pain before he stopped, but he did feel a great deal better than before.

"You do not move," the shaman said, appearing from nowhere. Gwyl hissed at him, he hated it when he was caught unprepared and this shaman seemed to be able to do that. "I heal you as best I know, will take time. If can do magic to finish, make faster heal." Gwyl only shook his head and the man left again.

It was several days before Gwyl was even able to move. Fever gripped him once more and took him to the edge of death several times. He would often become semi-conscious when the shaman was around, because of the taste of the magic nearby. However, the man seemed to use very little of it on Gwyl, and Gwyl very much appreciated it even if he couldn't think clearly.

As far as he could sense, no one else came. Gwyl could smell the scent of others near, but it was old, and so faint that, other than knowing it was not the shamans, he had no idea how many or who it was. If he concentrated hard enough, which was quite difficult in his state, he could smell blood. It was old blood though, as old as the human smell, and he came to the conclusion that whatever had caused the blood had also left a long time ago.

When Gwyl first realized he was healed enough to move, he thought of what had happened the last time and decided to stay put. He longed for his pack, wishing that Dog or Silver was there to lick his wounds and curl up next to him. There was no one though, no one except the shaman. The old man brought food three times daily, and few it to Gwyl slowly, and, after checking Gwyl's wounds, would disappear again without saying any words at all.

It was almost another full week after breaking his fever that the shaman spoke again. "You move now. Do nothing difficult, but you need moving," he said in English, his words still laced with magic. The English was getting better, it seemed to the more he used it, but it was still twisted and strange even if it was understandable. He disappeared through the doorway, leaving Gwyl alone.

Gwyl almost slumped to the floor the first time he tried to stand. His legs were weak, and slightly numb from lack of use. He forced himself to stand though, and he examined himself for the first time since the attack. His stomach bore thin scars, though they did not look as bad as they should have. His arms and legs also bore the same scars, as if someone had sliced him in pieces. But, he was whole still, and not particularly disfigured, other than being weak, he was sure that he wouldn't be affected by the wounds he'd taken.

Twenty minutes later, after limping through the rooms surrounding him, Gwyl made it back to the bed which he'd been laying on. The sheets he'd been using were clean, and he could taste lingering magic on them, though there was none now, they had been magicked in some way while he was gone. Gwyl was frustrated that the man had been able to come into the room without him sensing it, he hadn't been far away at all.

"You sense magic?" The shaman asked from a doorway into the room. Gwyl turned as quickly as possible, which was not very quickly, to look at him.

"You have magic voice." Gwyl said, watching the shaman.

"This is truth. Magic gives me words. Not speak English with no magic," the shaman said. "Have not learned enough to speak right. My language different, you not understand. I use magic to make understand."

"Not like magic," Gwyl said.

"You say much. I not sure why. Curious why. You very magic, much more than most things, so not understand why hate magic."

"I not magic," Gwyl said defiantly.

The shaman laughed. It was a deep, barking tone that made Gwyl's eyes narrow even more. He refused to relax around this man, not when he could easily loose a fight. He could not afford to lose, he was the leader of a pack, he needed to return to them.

"You extreme magical. Maybe why sense magic. Reason live after dragon attack. It make strong and make able to move. Give power to continue when other would hurt... when other would fall of pain. It is to make you strong, not fear it."

Gwyl liked that idea, he needed to be strong. But, he still did not like magic.

"You are Gwyl?" the shaman asked, changing the topic of the conversation.

Gwyl was a little surprised that the shaman knew his name. Still, he allowed himself to nod. The man had healed him, and even if he didn't trust him, he needed to show some consideration and, perhaps, respect.

"Gwyl, Wolf-Demon."

"Yes."

"You are Demon then?" the shaman asked, looking interested. "You once just wizard," he pointed out as an afterthought.

"Not Wizard!" Gwyl almost screamed, and his body shivered with pain. He groaned, but stayed standing.

"Not anymore, much more now. Have read things in the old writings, but not see a demon that was before a human. Strange demon you are, have not found one like you."

"Not human either," Gwyl said, "am animal."

"Yes animal," the shaman said after a long period of thought. "Rest, I cleaned sheets, not fear magic used to do. You explored area, know where the restroom."

With that, the man disappeared into the blackness that he had come from. I crawled into the bed and slept again.

•

"I think, perhaps, it is time that we have some rules," the shaman said a few days later, his English almost perfected now. It seemed as if the more he used the magical words the easier they seemed to flow. His reason for speaking, was because he had caught I trying to move through a black door, ignoring that magic around it. "There are only a few."

I growled.

"Good. First rule, you not to harm anything in forest, unless it attacks you first. I will provide food."

The thought of I not providing for himself was irritating, but then, if I didn't have to hunt, he could search for ways of escaping instead, so he let it slide.

"Second, you will not travel through any magical doors such as this one. There are very few of them, and I had suspected you would leave them alone because they are magical, but you have proved more persistent than I thought."

I growled again, trying to look through the door. "There is nothing through there that you will see," the shaman said. "It is my personal quarters. I have been watching you carefully to insure you heal properly. You are not healed yet, not completely. This brings me to the third rule. You are to be careful until I say you are fully healed. Even now the poison runs through your veins, and it always will, but until you are able to fight it off fully, you will not be healed. In fact, you will be quite weak until then."

"Fourth," the shaman said. "You will not be able to leave this place until I say so, so do not try."

The rule was stupid, and I knew there was no way he would follow it. He growled and stared at the shaman, still wondering if it might be better to kill the man and find a way without him. "Not keep prisoner," he said finally, remembering that his life had been saved because of the shaman, and he would not allow himself to kill someone he was indebted to unless it was absolutely necessary.

"I will keep you for however long I think it will take to properly heal you. It is not my choice either. I am repaying one life for another, a life debt, you may not understand what that is, but sufficient to say, I cannot let you go until I know you will not be killed without me."

"I strong enough," I said defiantly.

The shaman laughed deeply. "If you were strong enough you would have left. I'll tell you what, if you can find a way out of this place, you will be allowed to go."

I nodded, happy that the rule had been changed.

"My rule," I said. "No magic."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that. Magic is required to sustain my life, nearly everything I do here, I do with magic. However, I will try and keep from using it when I am near you."

•

For days, Gwyl never saw the shaman, he found food on his bed, and clean sheets whenever he returned from exploring, but the shaman was never nearby.

Mostly he explored, trying to find the place where he could leave. The temple exit was easy enough to find, there were dozens of them, but no matter how far into the forest he went, it always seemed to lead to cliffs that he could not climb or trees and bushes that were so dense he doubted even a gnome could fit through them. His knife, which had been with his belongings when he started exploring, would cut through the trees, but they would grow back just as fast and Gwyl would never get anywhere.

He also wore a robe of some sort, as healed as he was, his wounds were raw still, and when he moved through the forest it was quite painful to have anything slide against them. The robe was soft, against his skin, and while slightly irritating, was much easier to wear than the pain he felt when he was struck by branches in the forest. It had been one of the many things that the shaman had given him, simply leaving them at the end of the bed.

It was in the evening when Gwyl came into the temple again and found the shaman waiting for him. He seemed more alive than when Gwyl had last seen him, and he was smiling. "You and I are going to have to come to a truce," he said as Gwyl slowed at the doorway. "You have much inside in conflict, and strong potential. Would not be good to let it go to waste. I wish to teach you of many things."

Gwyl narrowed his eyes. "What is potential?" he asked, still refusing to come across the room and be near the shaman, he'd been ambushed once too many time by magic to trust it.

"It is... greatness. Inside you there is something that could make you stronger than ever, greater than any other."

The word stronger affected Gwyl. Now that he was alive, and nearly back to full strength he wasn't sure he was strong enough, even if he had never been hurt. The dragon and the other demon had defeated him, and he wouldn't allow that to happen again.

"How make strong?" Gwyl asked, his eyes still narrowed with suspicion. However, he was intent to find out the answer. Perhaps, if he was stronger, Kangon would not have the power to hold him inside the cave.

"Before I tell you, you must get used to magic."

"Not like magic."

"Yes, I know. I asked you last time why you did not, and you did not answer me."

"Magic trap me many times. Trap me in air, trap me in castle, keep me from going to home, make things happen I not want."

"Someone trapped you with magic?" the shaman asked. "Did they have a reason?"

Gwyl almost yelled at the shaman for asking, but it suddenly occurred to him that they did sort of have a reason for it, something that was caused by him. However, it hadn't been the only reason."

"They want me be human again," Gwyl said. "They want take to Dursley."

"Dursley?"

"Mean humans. Hurt Gwyl."

"So they trapped you to turn you to a human and make you go back to people who hurt you?"

"Rela... teev?" The shaman did not seem to understand the word, so Gwyl explained it the best he could. "Dursley uncle. Dursley aunt."

"Relatives," the shaman said, nodding. "I see. I am assuming they were being abused."

"Abuse, yes. Uncle kill Gwyl."

This seemed to startle the shaman. "Your uncle tried to _kill_ you?"

"Yes, everything disappear and Gwyl find forest. Live there, but have to come to this forest now."

"How old are you?" the shaman asked.

Gwyl tilted his head and thought, hard, it was difficult for him to remember back that far, but not completely impossible. He held up his hands and counted to himself. "Eight," he said finally.

"And how old where you when you started living in the forest?"

"Five," Gwyl said immediately. He was beginning to remember things he didn't want to and he looked down, trying to push back the memories. It was successful, the darkness that had seemed to start to envelope him disappeared.

"I wonder if that, perhaps, is the reason you became a demon."

As much as Gwyl called himself a Demon and wanted others to call him that, he still did not know what a demon was. If this shaman knew, he might answer, and so Gwyl asked.

The shaman looked happy to answer. "There are many demons," he said thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to speak again and the words came out in harsh guttural words. He paused, said something very clearly, and then spoke once more. "There are many demons in the world," he repeated once more in English. "They take all different forms. Most of them are a part of the magical society that exists in the world, and are accepted for what they are. They are much like humans for the most part, or wizards, with more latent power beneath the surface. Some have less magical abilities in certain areas, some have more."

Gwyl shook his head, "not understand," he said.

"Alright. You know what a human is?"

Gwyl nodded.

"You know what a wizard is?"

Again, Gwyl nodded.

"The difference between a human and wizard is what?"

"The wizard has magic," Gwyl said.

"Yes, that is the predominant difference. Wizards have all sorts of magic they use. Some makes people heal, some makes things clean, some hurts people, some cleans, some controls. Many forms of magic do many different things."

"Different magic?" Gwyl said slowly, digesting all the information with a good bit of difficulty. There had been a lot said, and Gwyl had a difficult time making it all fit inside his head. However, now that he thought about it, there was all sorts of magic in the world, some of it must be different than others. But, did that mean there was good and bad magic? Perhaps not all magic was bad then.

Gwyl shook away the thought quickly, wondering if he was perhaps being tricked.

"Yes. Now, there is a wizard and a demon. Demons are usually less magical, but they have magic that wizards cannot use. Some control fire. Some control happiness."

"But wizard magic do fire and happiness." Gwyl had seen fire magic with his own eyes, and the shaman had said some magic did happiness.

"It is different. Demons truly have control of them. Wizards can make it, but to a demon it is a part of them. Like, a wizard can cast a spell that will create fire, while some demons can simply think and they create fire in their hands."

"Not same?" Gwyl asked, still a little unsure about the explanation.

"No. It is very different. Take you for example, you heal extraordinarily fast, which is not a wizard power, rather I believe it to be a wizard power. I wizard could _do_ it, but he would have to use a wand, he would not do it without having to create it. Your body controls that magic and changes it to fit your needs. You are strong, yes?"

Gwyl nodded. This had been proven many times. He knew he was not as strong as he needed to be, but he was strong.

"...and fast?"

Once more Gwyl responded with a nod.

"You are much more than any wizard is."

"Strong and fast like Kangon. We fight, not win, but not lose."

The shaman examined Gwyl again and nodded. "We'll make you stronger," he said resolutely, "but first comes the hard part."

The magic that burst from his hand made Gwyl stumble backwards, but not quick enough to avoid it. The magic struck him full on. Gwyl froze, the magic leaving a nasty taste in his mouth. After it had passed, Gwyl looked to the shaman, unsure what had happened. He felt no different than before, and he always assumed magic would harm him.

"What magic?" Gwyl asked, choosing not to attack yet.

"It is a simple strength charm. You will find that, for a few minutes, you are quite a bit stronger than normal."

Gwyl jumped up and down, still feeling no different. He did notice he was jumping higher than normal. He reached to the nearest protruding section of wall above him and pulled on it. When he was nearly thrown to the roof he seemed surprised. Once he was standing again he looked at the shaman and thought long and hard. "Why you do that?" he asked.

"It is because I am trying to prove to you that magic can be used for good as well as evil. The things the wizards did to you was wrong, but not all magic is used in that way. You need to understand that using magic can be good before you can get stronger."

"Still not like magic," Gwyl said rather resolutely, a little angry magic had been used on him without his authorization.

"You can sense all magic, am I correct?"

Gwyl nodded.

Rather slowly, the shaman moved forward. Gwyl stood stock still, waiting for his hand to wave in some way so that he could avoid whatever magic was going to be done. However, when the shaman was close enough to touch Gwyl he reached out, still slowly, and then, with a speed that Gwyl had yet to see from the old man, grabbed hold of Gwyl's knife and pulled it from the sheath. He was to the other side of the room before Gwyl even got over the surprise.

"You refuse to use magic, and yet you have this wonderful tool."

Gwyl growled and squatted, ready to throw himself across the room and retrieve his weapon.

"I will return it in a moment," the shaman said, trying to fend off the impending attack. "I merely want to demonstrate something to you." Looking around for a moment, the shaman waved his hand at the wall and a large chunk of stone broke free and came to his hand. Another movement and it broke in half.

"These are the same pieces of rock, they are enchanted for strength, but I will remove it from one of them, and create a third piece, from magic."

With a flick of his hands there was a burst of magic, then another. The two rocks suddenly became three.

"Now, come and examine them," the shaman said. "Chose the rock without magic."

Gwyl moved forward, sniffed the rocks and then stared at them for several seconds. When he had made up his mind that one of them was completely lifeless, he chose it by pointing it out.

The shaman stepped forward, Gwyl took a step back. Then, with a heavy sweep, the shaman brought the knife down on to the rock. Sparks flew everywhere and tiny bits of fragments of the rock sprayed Gwyl's face. Still, very little damage had been done, a gouge in the surface.

"Now chose the rock not made of magic."

Knowing what it was, Gwyl immediately pointed it out.

The shaman swung the blade down again, and once more, after the tiny rock fragments had sprayed everywhere, the rock stood, with a much deeper gouge, nearly halfway through the rock.

"And last," the shaman said, raising the knife. He swung and Gwyl shied away, but nothing happened. He blinked and looked at the rock, which had been cleanly broken in two.

"Go ahead and feel the rocks, there is no difference in hardness."

Gwyl reached out tentatively and pulled the halved rocks from the table. He weighed it in his hand and tried to crush it, but it was strong, quite strong. He picked up the second rock and tested it. There was no different in weight or strength. Testing the third he found the same results. There was no difference between them other than magic.

"Not understand," Gwyl said finally.

"Your knife is endowed with strong magic," the shaman explained. "It is specifically for use against magic. It is a strong knife when used against normal things, but when used against magic, it is much, much stronger. It is simply a different form of magic. However, you keep it at your side all the time, do you not?"

Gwyl didn't like where this was leading. The man was winning the battle of words and his mind was making things more difficult. How could he hate magic? He used it. Was that not wrong? Gwyl knew right and wrong, his morals were perhaps not as most are, but he understood the difference of things. He knew it was wrong to kill if he was not protecting something or fighting for food. He knew it had been wrong, in some way, to take Stray from the humans. However, she had wanted to come, and he felt the good outweighed the bad. However, he was using magic all the time, so it was not correct for him to say magic was bad.

Magic was everywhere, in the trees, in the ground, in his pack members, everything had magic. Still, magic wasn't always good and he knew he must be careful of it.

"Do you understand yet?"

"Not like some magic," Gwyl said, changing his statement slightly.

"Good, we're getting somewhere. Now, let me help you see that you _are_ magic."

The shaman turned and disappeared into the black hole that was the doorway to his room. Gwyl wasn't sure if he should follow, but the shaman reappeared quite quickly holding something in his hands. Gwyl couldn't see what it was, but it was giving off a strong sense of magic, like torrential rain beating down upon him.

Gwyl stepped back, his body suddenly becoming quite weak. He stepped again and almost stumbled to a stop on the ground. Something inside him started to ache, nothing like any pain he'd ever felt before. It pushed at him, choked him from the inside, and he began to have trouble breathing, it almost felt as if half of him was being ripped from his body. The third time he stepped back, he finally did stumble. "Hurt," Gwyl said, clutching his body as if it might help the pain go away.

The shaman stepped back and disappeared through the door once more. Gwyl felt his whole body relax and he began to feel his senses return.

From the inky blackness the shaman came again, once more holding something within his hands. Gwyl readied himself to flee, so whatever it was would not affect him, but when he connected with it he began to feel strong again. Crawling to his feet, Gwyl stooped and growled, ready to fight the shaman for whatever it was the man held. However, it was the shaman who seemed less powerful this time, and he did not stray far from his black door. When Gwyl was ready to jump forward and take this wonderful feeling, the shaman stepped back and disappeared for the third time.

When he finally returned, he had nothing in his hands.

"What you have felt was a focused compendium of memories," he said calmly, staying as close to the door as was possible without walking back through it. "The first memories were joyous ones, each something special collected from the members of the village before it was destroyed. It is designed to keep off terrible things, and works for the most part. Most things I do not wish to disturb this place do not come because of it.

"The second was memories of sorrow, misery, pain, they are like a shadow in light, the darker things of our mind. They too serve a purpose and where from the villagers. Tell me, how did you respond to them?"

"First hurt," Gwyl said trying to decide what that meant. "Feel like inside coming out."

"And the second?"

"Make hungry," Gwyl said. "want to take and eat. Feel good inside."

"That is what I thought. Generally demons respond well to darkness. All feed on a variety of different things, but all respond well to darkness of some sort."

This was very little proof to Gwyl that he was magical, but it was beginning to make sense. This was how Gwyl first began to realize that magic was not so bad, and perhaps it might be good to know how to use it. This was also how Gwyl first began to form a very tentative friendship with the elderly shaman.

•

When he was not being shown magic, Gwyl often sat on the edge of the forest and listened to the creatures beyond. At night he would howl into the wind, waiting for his song to be heard, waiting for his pack to come to him.

Even being that he had a companion, Gwyl felt alone. He tried to focus, to learn the things that the painted-man wanted to show him, but it was difficult, and he could rarely hold his attention for long. It wasn't until the shaman mentioned a form of magic that turned animals into humans, that he became truly interested. Yes, he knew magic was powerful, and he knew it could make him stronger, but it hadn't been enough to make him forget his pack.

However, the thought of turning to a wolf drove him to learn of how powerful magic was. The shaman couldn't demonstrate, saying he was unable to turn to an animal, though some wizards could. When Gwyl stated, quite clearly, that he wasn't a wizard, the shaman continued to explain that some demons could become animals as well. The explanation itself was complicated, and Gwyl lost track of it even though he tried not to. In the end he knew that it was possible he was one of the demons that could transform.

When he'd showed interest, the shaman had been excited, and showed Gwyl everything he knew about it. Once that was done, they went to work, trying to figure out if Gwyl could do it. There were questions, may questions, most of them Gwyl didn't answer, but when there was something the shaman could convince Gwyl was relevant, he answered them.

The knowledge was there, and the drive was there. For hours on end, Gwyl sat and focused, trying to find his 'beast' as the shaman said (in English) or his katan in the shaman's language. Weeks came and went. Gwyl's only focus was to learn this magic of transforming, and he pushed and pushed, forgoing as many lessons as the shaman would allow.

Still, he learned, a little at a time, watching quietly for his chance to escape.

• Updated 2005.08.07 •


End file.
